Just Another Sodding Apocalypse
by BunnyPhobia
Summary: The plot thickens, like mud. Dead men, helicopters and Sunnydale Woods. Pls R&R :)
1. Chapter 1: If I had a Hammer

Chapter 1 : If I have a hammer…

"You see, it's all about getting the nails in exactly the right place. You have to get them in straight or…"

"Like this?" Buffy asked, bringing the hammer down violently before practically splatting the nail into the piece of timber. A split shocked it's way along the grain.

Xander winced.

"Well, you _could_ do it like that" He replied, kneeling down in front of the half-constructed table. He ran his finger along the split, which transgressed half the front left leg then sat back on his haunches.

Buffy looked at him, hammer in hand.

"I could?" She paused warily  "Did I break it?"

"No…but I don't think this table's gonna go 'poof'" Xander flipped the piece of furniture so it was on it's side. "It doesn't need slaying"

"I should hope not, that cost me _way _too much money" Buffy looked sadly at the large split and twisted the hammer absently in her hands. "Quality table, my ass"

 Around them lay cardboard packaging and polystyrene. Bits of cellotape and plastic sheeting was scattered across the Summer's living room carpet, and Buffy and Xander stood in the midst of it all.

"You bought the DIY packed table Buffy" Xander said, taking the hammer off the Slayer before _carefully_ banging another nail in. "You wanted to go to Ikea"

"Well it's Swedish!" she exclaimed. And at Xander's look "I'm trying to be more multi-cultural"

Xander finished banging the nail in, and he pulled the small coffee table up so it rested on it's four legs, the split not really noticeable in this position. 

"There" He said, dusting the top down. "All done"

Buffy regarded the teak table now apparently floating on pieces of corrugated cardboard. "Thank you Xander. It looks very nice"

"Not bad for a hour's work. Though a set of instructions do make construction easier" He said. "As long as they're picture instructions…"

Buffy smiled. 

"I'll get some filler too, for tomorrow, just to cover up that split" He added.

"Thanks" Buffy glared at the table, peering under it to see the large gap she had created, as if she hoped it would just pick itself up and walk away. "I really need to learn my own strength" She muttered. Behind her she heard Xander cough and start to collect up his tools. The Slayer started to fold up the packaging.

"Does Dawn need a lift home from school?" Xander asked. Buffy shook her head. 

"She's going to Michelle's. Or Monica's. Or is it Marieke's?" Buffy paused. "I don't know, but she's going there"

"The short girl?"

"What?"

Xander grinned as he picked up his bag of tools and put it over his shoulder. "The one who's experimenting with shortness?"

Buffy tilted her head to look at him, wondering what he was going on about. "She's not that short…which ever one it is" Buffy picked up a pile of creased cardboard and stuffed it into a black bin liner. "Dawn doesn't have any short friends" Buffy considered "I think they're all in competition"

Xander helped Buffy as they collected all the rubbish from the floor.

"How's she dealing?…" Xander trailed off. Buffy stopped to look at him.

"You mean with Willow? Or without Tara?"

"Both"

Buffy smiled slightly. "She's ok. I mean, she's not okay, but…"

"She's dealing"

"Yeah"

Xander gazed Buffy in the eyes, and put a hand on her shoulder.

"And what about you?"

"You sound like Giles" She commented, and then sobered. "I'm ok. I mean I'm _so_ over the dead thing. Life's…It's almost good"

Xander smiled at her.

"And look at you!" Buffy added. "What with the shirt, and the tools and" Buffy peered past him to look out the window "The big car parked on my drive way"

"People should just blow High School's up more often" He said modestly.

"No, it's you. No DoubleMeat for Xander" Buffy glanced at the ugly uniform hanging on the back of the kitchen door "You've done well for yourself, Mr Harris"

There was a moment of silence as the two gazed at each other. Xander coughed again.

"Right, I'd better go. We're working on the site at twelve, so I need to be there" Xander pushed the cardboard in his hands into the bin liner.

"Yes, work" Buffy said quickly. "You should go there"

"So I actually get to keep the car"

"And then I can pretend it's mine when you park it on my driveway" 

The two laughed, and Xander moved towards the door.

"Thanks for the table" Buffy said again, as her friend opened the front door.

"Your welcome, Buff"

"Bye" She said, as Xander closed the door. She heard him start up the car, and reverse it out of the driveway. Buffy glanced over the room, most of the mess tidied, her new table shining, clean and intact in the centre.

"I'll just sit her and wait for someone to come and see me then" she said, sitting down on the sofa. From this position, the split in the table leg was really visible, and it glared at her, as if a label of her own strength and ineptitude. Buffy glared back.

"Stupid table" She muttered.

It was then that the split leg fell off and tipped to the ground, the table following suit, leaving it lying, half-assed, on the carpet.

Buffy glared at it even more, narrowing her eyes.

"Crap" She said.


	2. Chapter 2: The Cheep Cheep Song

Chapter 2: The Cheep Cheep Song

 "No"

"Anya"

"No!"

"Anya, stop being so…"

Anya glared at the Watcher, and then through the glass into the store.

"I am _not_ going in there" She narrowed her eyes. "There's evil little furry critters in there, little demons that want to nibble off my extraneous appendages, and I _do_ not what to have no fingers. What could I do without no fingers?!"

"But…"

"I couldn't get in a cash register, for one thing!" She added, stubbornly.

Giles sighed and rubbed at his forehead. They'd been stood here for the past ten minutes, and he'd failed miserably in trying to persuade the Vengeance demon to enter the store.

"Anya, it's a pet shop, not a pit of evil demons" He said tiredly.

Anya peered through the glass, making out the shadowed shapes of cages and huts and pens.

"They look pretty evil to me" She grumbled. Giles threw his hands in the air in exasperation.

"Fine. Stay here" Giles moved towards the entrance. "I'll be five minutes, I just need to buy some bird mix"

He opened the door and entered the shop.

"Well when they eat you, don't say I didn't warn you!" Anya shouted after him. She crossed her arms and leant petulantly against the windows. "Humans! They're so crazy"

Anya looked out over the main street, a few pedestrians milling around, a couple of cars driving past. Considering it was a Tuesday morning, the centre of Sunnydale was remarkably quiet. 

The Magic Box itself never _really_ got busy, or, at least, it never used to. Now that it had become a location of an apocalyptic battle, disaster tourists were flooding in! Anya loved to collect the money off the little people, though she missed the actual shop and all the little 'scooby' meetings, but getting cash off Japanese businessmen – nothing compared to it. Plus she had her vengeance, which she was easing off on, but it was still a full-time job.

She glanced over her shoulder to see Giles at the till, and sighed. She felt so unappreciated.

A large Chinnock flew over head, making Anya jump, it's spotlights blazing, even though it was the middle of the day; the blades whirring, the engine roaring, sailing at an angle through the cloudless sky. It crossed over in a matter of seconds, the peaceful silence settling in it's midst like a drifting blanket. Anya frowned. That helicopter had been from the army – or, the secret police. It was all black and shiny, as if being a dark colour in the middle of the day would really help it not to be noticed. Not to mention how goddamn noisy it was.

"Ok?" Giles said, as he exited the shop, a bag of mixed bird food in his hand. Anya glanced at his still intact fingers, surprised, and the two started to walk into the direction of Giles' house.

"So…are you having a crisis and moving in a retirement home then?" Anya said, staring pointedly at the bird food.

Giles blinked, and then looked bemused.

"What ever gives you that idea?"

"Well, you've bought a canary. I assumed that that meant you were having a crisis, and are now going to spend the rest of your wrinkly days teaching your new bird to sing."

Giles frowned.

"I've bought a canary, Anya. That doesn't mean I'm having _any_ kind of crisis"

"Well, you're not going to go down a large hole and see if it asphyxiates, are you?" Anya stopped. "Are you?"

"No" He said shortly. They resumed walking, in silence for a moment.

"Since when does buying a canary signify a life crisis?" He asked. "And I'm not _old enough_ to go into a retirement home!" 

Anya thought about arguing, but it was her experience that Giles never listened to what she said, well, not when it involved him at any rate. Her opinions were never appreciated. And it wasn't just Giles, it was the rest of em! Even when it came to demons they ignored her, and she knew _way_ more than any of them about that subject. 

She needed to find a role, a place where she could be an asset, a central figure. She'd thought she'd found that in retail, with the wonderful cash register, but, alas, that was now gone.

Anya didn't think being a Vengeance Demon again was quite going to fill that place of… 'capital' in her heart. It may be emotionally satisfying, and had its perks (like being Immortal) but you didn't see many demons driving around in a Ferrari with pretty stones on their fingers.

And Anya liked pretty stones.

The two approached Giles' apartment, descending the staircase, as Giles rummaged around in his pockets for the door keys.

"It's ever so nice of you to let me stay here" Anya enthused, as she did everytime she entered the building. "I mean, I did have my own apartment, but now I have no money, or very little, I can't afford it, so it's very generous of you to let me sleep on your sofa"

"Yes Anya" Giles said tiredly. He motioned with his head, "In you go".

Anya entered the building, removing her coat, whilst Giles struggled inside with the two bags of bird mix. He placed them undereneath a large guilded cage, in which sat a uncommonly large, bright yellow, canary.

The bird hopped around on it's perch, chirupping with excitement as it saw it's owner arrived.

The Canary, which had a name that it couldn't pronounce, not having human vocal cords (but he thought it was something like 'Heee – Beeearrt'), was three months old and from Belgium. He had arrived in the US on a pre-paid, dinner bed and breakfast vacation with a specialized excursion group.  He'd gone round and seen all the sites (the Big Bath (the constant puddle at the end of Crawford Street) had been the highlight) and he'd been waiting patiently for his Taxi back to the docks, when suddenly he'd been swept up by a Tweed-wearing Human who smelt of tea and mouldy books, and placed in a dark box.

The Canary had been most alarmed, and indeed, his little beating heart had almost blown a fuse (he resorted to the Canary Meditiation Methods of Ai Pee in order to stop this unfortunate side-effect), until he'd been set free inside this magnificent gold-plated apartment. 

And now he was as happy as Larry. (Larry was his extortionately rich cousin in Singapore).

"Cheep cheep" Said the Canary, as Giles opened the hatch to his cage and placed his hand inside. The Canary hopped onto his finger.

"There's a good Canary" He said coaxingly, withdrawing his hand.

"His name's Herbert" Anya said from behind him. "I decided that we were going to call him Herbert."

"Cheep" Said the Canary.

"Anya" Giles turned, an eyebrow raised. "This is my canary, remember. And we are not going to call _my_ canary Herbert"

"Cheep" Said the Canary, again.

"Why not? Is the name a reference to something I don't know of? Do you and Herbert secretly laugh and giggle at me, behind my back?!"

"No Anya, we don't" Giles put a comforting hand on the girl's shoulder. He held up the other hand on which sat the Canary and looked at him fondly. "I just don't think he's called Herbert"

"Fine" Anya pouted. "But when he ends up resenting you in his teenage years because you called him 'Pilchard', don't come running to me!"

"Pilchard!?" Giles said flabbergasted. 

"Yes. And that's before he's eaten by a confused cat looking for fish products. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to go and change my clothing"

Giles watched the receeding figure as she went upstairs. Life certainly had become more interesting since Anya had moved in. A lot more bewildering, too.

Scratching the Canary on top of it's yellow-plumed head, Giles wondered how Willow was doing. She was still in England, working with the coven during the week for magic control, and at Tesco at weekends as a form as punishment. She wouldn't get off trying to end the world _that_ easily. 

Still he, and the others missed her. They didn't say much, they were still hurt and threatened from her actions, but, Giles thought, he knew. He saw. Afterall, he missed Willow too.

"Come on Canary" He turned. "Herbert indeed! Let's put you back in your cage" Giles carefully placed the young bird back on his perch, then topped up his feed-dish and water. "Much better"

"Cheep" Said the Canary, in agreement.

"Don't you do anything dangerous in there" Giles added sternly. 

"Cheep"

"Good"

Then Giles went to make himself and Anya a cup of tea, and the Canary set about reading the newspaper at the bottom of his cage. Well, he would, as soon as he'd mastered the English language. And the art of reading.

A Canary's work was never done.

"Cheep" He said to himself…in agreement. "Cheep Cheep Cheep"


	3. Chapter 3: Pretty Fly for a White Guy

Chapter 3: 'Pretty Fly for a White Guy'

The woods on the outskirts of Sunnydale were unnaturally still. Not a bird sang, not a leaf bristled in the warm summer wind, no animals scurried about in the undergrowth. It was as idyllic and as still as a picture. A typical Californian wood, complete with trees and green stuff. And the large helicopter parked in a clearing.

Lieutenant Steve Kash sat in the cockpit, dressed in his all-black uniform. Over the top was a bullet (and demon) proof vest, a gun holster round his waist, holding two state of the art pistols (squeeze the trigger and a bullet comes out the other end, it was _that_ advanced) and big heavy boots on his feet. He also had his Homer Simpson knee socks, but they weren't regiment and he was afraid that if he thought about them too much, his boss would find out.

His boss had a habit of being telepathic.

"Lieutenant!" 

That was him

"Sir?" Kash sat up straighter and smoothed out his shirt before he realized the voice was speaking over the intercom within his helmet. "Er, yes Sir?" He kafuffled. 

"Lieutenant, we've identified two unidentified anonymous temporarily named demon creatures of ambiguous nature, numbered One and Two. They're crossing the field to your left, can you see them?" His boss didn't wait for an affirmative. "I want you and your team…"

Team? Kash thought. Oh, he meant Solider Tomlinson, the sleeping guy in the back.

"…to do some reconnaissance, covert. Scout around, take notes, but in no circumstances approach them, understand?"

"Yes Boss. Right Boss"

"Oh, and Lieutenant?"

"Sir?" He knew was what coming.

"Try to keep the novelty socks at _home_ next time?"

"Yes Sir" Kash said, as he heard the click in his ear which meant his boss had disconnected. His boss was freaky – he just _knew _stuff. 

But now, it was time to do some actual work for a change.

"Tomlinson!!" He called out.

"Huh?" Came the muffled reply from the interior of the Chinook. 

"We're going to do some business"

The young, attractive and half-asleep officer stuck his head through into the cockpit.

"Business?"

Kash nodded smartly.

"Right, kay" Tomlinson yawned. "I'll just go put my hat on" He rubbed at his eyes. "Where are we?" 

Tomlinson, born and bred in Minnesota, had slept throughout the 3 hour flight, dreaming of sheep, large candy bars and a scantily clad lady named Dominique. He had no idea of his mission, his intent, nor who the guy sat in the cockpit was, except that he was more important than himself and fractionally taller.

"Sunnydale, California"

"Oh" Tomlinson frowned an attractive frown on his attractive face as he tried vainly to remember his training. "That's the one with the hellmouth, right?"

"Got it in one"

"ah" Tomlinson, first name long forgotten,  ran some fingers through his short dark hair. "Re-con?"

"Yup" Kash stood, fastening his chin strap on his helmet and patting his gun holster to check his highly-advanced-technology pistols were still there. They were.

"Now let's go solider!!"

They went.

The field was large, green and slightly muddy, and Lieutenant Kash clobbered his way through, head down, moving through the long grasses like a black, two legged snake, or so was his intention. He'd been in this job for three years, working for a small branch of the Government, but this was his first mission as head of the team. He was determined, not to fail, but to succeed. He glanced down at his wrist, where his watch shaped radar, locator and demon spotted beeped away (it also had time functionality).

"Over here" He said in a mock whisper, pointing dramatically to his left. Behind him, Tomlinson raised his eyebrows, but followed in his leader's footsteps. The two ploughed their way through the chest-height collection of summer grasses. In the centre of this massive field stood a gigantic tree, old and crooked and hanging down thick green leaves that swept over everything. Kash wasn't leading them towards the tree though, and instead took them to the perimeter. Then, suddenly, he dropped to his knees, pulling his pocket sized binoculars to his eyes.

"What is it?" Asked Tomlinson. 

"One and Two"

"The beginning of an Offspring song?"

"The demon suspects"

"Ah" Tomlinson rose to he could peer over the tops of the grass. He couldn't see much except for a couple of pigeons, a rabbit and two large hairy looking gorilla things with horns. Oh, Tomlinson thought, they would be the demons.

Kash gazed through the binoculars with bated breath. Never had he been so close to demons, in the real world. These two grotesque creatures were apparently talking, one had his arm over the other's shoulder in a confidential manner. It was also wearing what had once been a suit and had a briefcase under it's arm. The other, un-clothed demon (thank god it was hairy) was gesturing angrily to something the Lieutenant couldn't see. The suited demon then hastily scribbled some notes down on a pad of paper.

My god…was this a Lawyer-demon?!

Kash swallowed. He had heard of these creatures, sly and selfish, lying blatantly to help their clients, they'd stop at nothing to get what they wanted. They had to be stopped before they created havoc across the world!

Slowly, carefully, Kash turned the binoculars over, sliding a panel across so the instrument now became a digital camera. With trembling hands he compressed the button, getting the two beings within the focus, careful not to chop their heads out the image, drew a sharp breath and 'click'. The camera/binocular whirred as the image was stored.

Kash smiled grimly, and then that pleasure turned to horror as the demons turned and looked straight at him. The suited one gestured fiercely, pointing directly through the grasses and the non-clothed demon roared a deep throated sound of rage.

"Oh boy" Kash muttered and felt a rivulet of sweat trickle down his brow. "Oh boy oh boy".

"Sir?" Tomlinson asked, alarmed, as he saw the large hairy demon things started to trample their way towards them.

"Here, take the camera!" Kash tossed the instrument. "And run!!"

The Lieutenant sprang up, pushing his way past the younger (and fractionally shorter) officer, screaming like a baby. All he could think about was getting to the Chinook, whirling those blades and getting the hell out, before he got eaten alive, not knowing what he'd done to deserve this. Tomlinson would just have to keep up, his boss would just have to be satisfied with the one picture they'd got – Kash wasn't putting his life on the…

THUD! Kash tripped up over his own bootlace and crashed heavily onto the ground. He lay there winded as Tomlinson ran past, but Kash didn't have the breath to speak. He must be hidden and submersed by the long thick grass. Clutching his stomach, he rolled over, in a panic, about to get up, when something grabbed hold of his foot.

"Aaarrghh!" Screamed Kash as the suited Lawyer-demon smiled down at his through long, saliva dripping fangs.

"Glarf gallugg, ga muc muc" It gabbled.

"Aaarrghh!" Kash screamed again, as the _thing_ tugged at his boot curiously. It's mouth was huge, Kash realized, the lips partially immersed in the great shaggy head, two beady black eyes peering out like a rabid English sheepdog. 

"Glarrgg?"

Was that a question?, Kash wondered.

**Chomp** – the beast bit off the end of Kash's foot.

Kash didn't care.

And then the demon ate him all up. Wasn't that nice? Well, it was, for the demon.


	4. Chapter 4: 'Walking Contradiction'

Chapter 4: 'I'm a Walking Contradiction'

"Dawn, is that you?" Buffy called out from her seat in the living room. The kitchen door slammed shut in reply. "Dawn?"

There came a badly disguised sob from the hallway and the sound of hurried footsteps up the stairs.

"Dawn!" Buffy repeated, rising from the sofa. She caught a glimpse of her younger sisters retreating feet, and another slammed door. 

Jeez you're gonna pull the things off their hinges, Buffy thought, as she traipsed her way up stairs. She turned into caring older sister, and knocked gently, before turning the handle.

Her sister, who wasn't quite so little anymore, was sat on the bed, knees to her chin, rocking back and forth, tears streaming down her face.

"Go…away" She sniffed, taking in big gulps of air, and snuffling. She hacked back a big ball of snot that was making it's way down her left nostril.

"Urgh, Dawn!" Buffy said, disgusted. 

"Well I can't help it" She whined. "I'm upset"

"Well at least get a tissue, sheesh." Buffy calmed herself down and entered the room proper. "Dawn, what is it?"

"My life sucks" was the short reply. 

"It does?"

"I've got size eight feet, a Slayer for a sister, _no_ friends"

"That's not so bad…"

"I haven't done any school work, I'm allergic to macaroni"

"Since when!"

"I live in a house which now has Scandinavian furniture which doesn't even stand up..and…I nearly died"

Buffy's eyes widened. 

"You did?"

"Uhuh" Dawn turned her head to look at her sister. "Just now, coming home"

"But it's not even dark outside"

"I know"

"So what was it?"

"A truck"

"A what?"

"A truck. A stupid fat guy driving a stupid fat truck. I nearly got killed!"

Buffy's mouth opened in disbelief and she hastily closed it again.

"We live in Sunnydale! And you almost got run over because of poor road safety?"

Dawn blinked back furious tears.

"I didn't mean too. It wasn't like I wanted to get run over!"

"Dawn, what have I told you?"

"You've told me to never go out after dark, always carry a stake in my pocket and don't fall in a ditch because they're dangerous… Oh, and that I should never wear pink and yellow together because it clashes with my skin tone"

"Nice to know you've been listening to me" Buffy shook her head. "But that's not the issue…Are you ok?"

"Apart from the near death-ness? I'm fine"

She didn't sound it

"Dawnie…"

Her sister shrugged off the arm Buffy put around her shoulders.

"Dawn!" Buffy watched as her sister got up from the bed and stormed over to the window. She had a pout so huge it had taken up most of her chin.

"Dawn, what's the matter?"

"Spike. Where is he? I want to see him."

"Dawn…you know Spike went to Africa on a motorbike"

"I do?"

"Yes! It's a special aqua-motorbike. Its got fins" Buffy smiled, impressed.

"Buffy. I'm being serious! Why aren't you missing him more?"

"Because he's evil!…I think"

"See?! You're so…ambivalous

"Ambiguous"

"Yeah, whatever. You say one thing and do the other. And then you criticize my road safety!"

"Dawn I am not ambig– "

Dawn crossed her arms, and turned to look petulantly at the Slayer.

"Oh yeah? Cheese"

"What?"

"Cheese"

"…Is orange and made of cow's milk. Normally. Unless it's that plastic stuff."

Dawn raised her eyebrows.

"And…erm. I kinda like it?" Buffy continued, not really sure where it was all going.

"See? There! You either like cheese or you don't! You can't _half_ like cheese. You are so ambiguous"

Buffy frowned. "And you're a nut. A tall, strange, nut"

"Least I'm definitely a nut"

Buffy sighed, and wondered how the hell they had got onto this. 

"Great Dawn" Buffy stood. "Now I've got to go and ritually burn our new coffee table that fell down. Or at least see if Xander can save it. You sure you're okay?"

"Yes. I'm fine. I'm alive and still breathing"

Buffy smiled, and Dawn did the same in return.

"That's a good. Cos it's no fun being alive when you're not"

There was a brief pause.

"That was quite sick, wasn't it?"

"Uhuh" Replied Dawn.

Sighing, Buffy left her sister in her room, and made her way downstairs. She'd give Xander a ring, and see if he couldn't pop over after he'd finished work to give her a hand. She was going to be multi-cultural goddammit and she'd spent a fortune (a fortune for her) on this table. It was not going to beat The Slayer!

It was only when she reached the living room that it twigged there had been a demon hiding under her sister's bed.


	5. Chapter 5: 'Run Lola Run'

Chapter 5: 'Run Lola Run'

Tomlinson ran like he had never run before, not even that time on vacation in Hawaii and he'd stumbled across the 'You got a big penis? We'll judge it for you' competition on Wikinky beach. Suffice to say he'd fled screaming. 

However it was nothing to compare to the way he was running now. The camera was clutched tightly in his right hand, his left pumped by his side, as his lungs roared and the wind whipped at his face. He'd lost sight of Kash, but thought maybe he'd separated to make their get away safer. He didn't care, he was sure the evil demons were hot on his heels.

The Chinook. Tomlinson found an extra spurt of energy as he neared the large vehicle, jumping and clambering in to the cockpit in one swift move, throwing the camera onto the empty seat, slamming the large door shut, panting and gasping and generally feeling scared, sweaty and a little unfit. Never in all his days had he imagined such terror, such grotesque and ugly creatures, with such bad breath that it made him want to retch. As soon as Kash arrived, and they could fly back to base, he was being reassigned. The nice safe world of the mafia, of Russian spies and hostage situations where there were no literal hell beats – that sounded good to him.

Outside came a strangled roar, and it reminded Tomlinson of the dire situation.

He scrambled around under the dashboard, pushing aside the tissues, Harper's 'Copter Repair Manual', before he found the spare pistol. Checking to affirm it was loaded, he crept over to peer out the side window.

In contradiction to the horrific sound he'd just heard, Tomlinson saw no sign of any demons. The field seemed calm, the grass blowing gently in the warm summer breeze. He saw no evil creatures from hell, no dirty dealings, and…no Lieutenant Kash either.

Tomlinson frowned, and thought carefully. He had the camera, the keys and the helicopter. He was safely enclosed within several inches of thick, strong steel and metal, and he didn't even think those creatures from hell could get him. So why was he actively considering going back outside and looking for his Lieutenant?

"I am such an idiot" He muttered, as he quietly re-opened the door.

"Goourck1" Said a growling voice, before an arm whipped out and slit Solider Tomlinson's exposed throat.

Tomlinson slumped to the earth in front of his Chinook, his blood staining the brown soil, as he gargled his last few breaths. He lost consciousness soon after, but not before he looked up to see the non-suited demon slathering above him.

It muttered something incomprehensible and then, to Tomlinson's delirious ears, said

"…Cheese"

But the solider didn't have time to ponder over that, as he was too busy dying.

Tomlinson had never been very good at time management.

1) "Yes I agree. You wear silly socks you odd human creature. And now I will eat your brains"

Authors Note: It is common knowledge that Lawyer demons are particularly concise and manage to pack all sorts of insinuations into very few words. Translated using BabelDemon®


	6. Chapter 6: 'Whistle While you Work'

Chapter 6:  'Whistle While you Work'

I don't want to be here.

Willow's brain had been playing that same track for the last 9 weekends. She'd even developed a remix that fitted in time to whatever tedious job she was doing next.

I don't, no I, I don't, I _so_ don't want to be here

Stupid beans.

She'd been working a Tesco's since eight that morning. It was now four in the afternoon and she was going stir-crazy. Shelf-stacking was not something she'd envisioned doing. Being a nerd, yes. Hacking into government computers, yeah sure. Being a lesbian- well, she wasn't exactly saying no.

But working in a supermarket? Ending the world was more productive! At least you didn't get customers coming along afterwards and throwing everything you'd just done on the floor.

"Rosenburg, break!" The short, fat and balding Manager crept out of nowhere and spat the words into Willow's ear.

"Yes Mrs. Thump" She whispered. 

"And I want to see those cans in alphabetical order!"

"Yes Mrs. Thump"

"And don't be so cocky!"

Willow sighed.

"Yes Mrs. Thump"

The short fat and yes, definitely balding manager waddled on up the aisle. Willow felt tempted to throw a box of cornflakes at her, but then told herself that was an abuse of power.

'Besides' she consoled 'I'd probably miss'.

Sighing, Willow crossed the store floor, before reaching the door that led to the staff room. It was unnervingly busy this afternoon, as if the British population had received advanced warning of an apocalypse and were stocking up on tins of mushy peas. Still, Willow mused, mushy peas were radioactive enough in their own right. They'd probably _cause_ an apocalypse.

Trudging up the stairs to the staff room, Willow muttered a soothing mantra to herself, trying to remember everything the coven had taught her over the summer. Don't abuse your power. Don't end the world. An apple a day keeps the doctor away. Don't try and kill your best friends little ex-energy ball sister. It's I before E except after C. Fish fingers should not be sold as chicken nuggets and the jacket potatoes are not in the sale (She suspected the latter two were a residue from her supermarket store training course).

But the rest were such important things and ideals that Willow had never really considered before. The coven had really…they'd really shown her the way.

And now, of course she was connected to everything.

Flicking the kettle on (being in England had caused her to become addicted to tea…Well she had to be addicted to something. Apparently it was in her personality. And as she was off the MagicAnvils, she supposed a highly caffinated hot liquid was the next best thing) Willow sank down into one of the old sofa's and closed her eyes. All she could see was tiny endless barcodes and endless shelves and rows. Giles had been right. She wasn't going to get off lightly. This was torture.

And then there was this connecting thing. Every single being, object, particle was connected to Willow in some way – like an extended family. The trees, the flowers, the birds. Willow, in some way, could sense them all. 'Willow'. They were talking to her.

"Willow"

Oh, no, they weren't. That was Rachel, one of the sales assistants.

Willow sat up, blushing. 

"Hey"

"I've just been sent to tell you that you've only got fifteen minutes"

"Oh. Ok. Thank you" Willow smiled.

"And my god is it busy down there today"

"I know. Pre-apocalypse shopping"

"It's what?"

Willow opened then shut her mouth, like a fish. My god, she looked like a fish!

"Nothing" She replied hastily. Rachel grinned. She was pretty. 

"Laterz" She said, before disappearing back downstairs. Will leaned back and rubbed tiredly at her eyes. Time was just not going quickly enough. She wanted to go home.

Time took Willow's thoughts at face value and the fifteen minute break passed too quickly. Grumbling to herself, she left the staff room and descended back down the stairs. She hovered at the door that exited back onto the shop floor. She'd had enough of Tesco's. She could control her magic – she wasn't evil anymore. She was sorry, and sad, and needed her friends. Anyone, actually, who knew her and could understand what it had been like. Anyone.

Just then the door opened.

"Well, if it isn't Red?"

Willow's mouth dropped open.

"Spike?" She whispered.

That hadn't been quite what she meant.


	7. Chapter 7: 'Strange Goo'

Chapter 7: 'Strange Goo'

"Dawn!" Buffy hollered. Grabbing the axe out the weapons chest, she ran up stairs, taking the steps two at a time. "Dawn!" she hollered again – hoping her realization hadn't come to late.

Her sister appeared on the landing.

"What?" She asked.

Buffy grabbed her arm and pulled her behind her protectively.

"Demon!"

"What? Where?"

Buffy pointed into the bedroom, "Under your bed!" She whispered.

"No there isn't"

"There is!"

"No, Buffy – there isn't a…"

"Listen, I'm the Slayer and I'm telling you there's a demon under your bed!"

"You're also my paranoid older sister"

Buffy clenched her fists in frustration. "Listen to me. Now I want you to go downstairs, arm yourself with a stake – "

"Can't I have the axe?"

"No, you can't have the axe. You can have the nice, safe, non-house destroying stake from the chest instead"

"But Buf -"

"Dawn, this is serious! Then I want to ring Xander on his cell and get him to come straight over"

"He's gonna help you kill the demon? How come I don't get to help kill the demon?"

"Because you don't. And neither does he. He's gonna help me fix the table afterwards"

"Oh"

"Now go!"

Rolling her eyes, and muttering something about 'paranoia' and 'over-reaction', Dawn tramped downstairs. Buffy heard her cluttering around in the weapons chest, no doubt looking for a stake that closely resembled an axe. She'd be a long time looking.

Slipping into Slayer mode, Buffy crept cautiously towards Dawn's bedroom door. Upstairs, all was quiet, and it just made what she was doing more intense. Slaying. Hunting. Saving her sister from being eaten in the middle of the night.

Reaching the closed door, she gripped the handle, wishing she had x-ray vision, so she could actually see something…and then kicked the door open.

"Hey! That's my door you just broke!" Dawn hollered from downstairs. Buffy ignored her, and gripping the axe tightly, burst into the room, wielding the weapon high above her head.

At first she didn't see anything odd. Bed was made and neat. Window was open, but only an inch to let the breeze through, the curtain fluttering. The closet doors were shut and the space under the bed was…empty.

Buffy stood back up and frowned. She'd been so sure there had been a demon under the bed. Ok, so she'd only sensed it, but her slayer senses were finely tuned for such…things.

"Have you found it yet?" Dawn shouted up the stairs.

"No" Buffy admitted. "But it's here. It is, it's just - "

Buffy saw, for split-seconds, a dark shape descending from the ceiling above her head, the glint of sharp teeth, the thick fur of something that desperately needed 'Frizz-Ease'; and then a sharp pain in her head.

All went black.

*****     *******       *******          ******

"Hey, she's coming around"

"Buffy? Buffy, can you hear me?"

"I bet she's broken something. I bet her brain's all broken up"

"Anya, just  – no. Buffy, can you hear me?"

She felt like she'd just been crushed under a twenty-two and six ton anvil.

"Ow" she grimaced, opening her eyes slightly. The faces of her friends surrounded her, all giving her the worried hairy eyeball. It was an intense spectacle from her position on the floor and Buffy hastily shut her eyes again.

"No, Buffy, wake up"

"I told you she was broken. This demon, it broke her brain and now there's no one left to save the world. We're all screwed and it's all your fault"

"I didn't know there was a demon on the ceiling!" That was Dawn.

"Anya, guys: I'm not broken" Buffy sighed. "I'm ok. I'm fine" She opened her eyes again. "But can you just back off a little?" 

Taking Xander's outstretched hand, the Slayer clambered to her feet. She was on the floor of the landing, facing the entrance to Dawn's bedroom. Buffy wondered if she got thrown out here, but her injuries didn't tell her that much. She had a cut above her eyebrow that stung like something stingy, and a bump on the back of her head. But she was still in working order.

"Fully functional, in fact" she commented proudly.

Giles, Anya, Xander and Dawn surveyed her critically.

"You ok Buffy?"

"Dawn, I'm fine. Really" she replied. "Stupid demon. I should've seen it coming" She massaged her shoulder. "What was it exactly?"

Giles took off his glasses and frowned. Buffy winced.

"Do we _know_ what it was?"

"Well, we…we know that…"

"Giles doesn't know anything" Anya chimed in.

"Do you mind?" He responded, irritably. Anya rolled her eyes and turned to Buffy.

"What I mean is – you got clobbered and the demon skedaddled out of here on whatever it uses for legs before any of us could get a look at it"

"Oh" Buffy thought for a minute. "Well it was big. And hairy, if that helps"

"Oh sure, it narrows it down a lot. Big and hairy –no problem for us researchers" Xander said. He frowned as eyes turned on him "What? I was being sincere"

"And scarily optimistic. That's inappropriate" Anya replied.

"What? We have Buffy's description, Giles' brain, and the writing all over Dawn's room – what else do we need?"

Dawn groaned, Buffy's eyes widened, and Anya hit Xander on the arm.

"Tell me off for blabbermouthing" she muttered.

"Writing? What writing?" Buffy asked slowly.

"Just some words, Buffy, written on the walls. Quite intruiging actually…"

She didn't wait to hear the rest of Giles' sentence. Praying to something that it wasn't too bad, she ran into her sister's bedroom. 

"Oh…crap" She whimpered.

The others followed her in.

"Well, you know I've been wanting to redecorate" Dawn offered.

The room was unrecognizable. The furniture was over thrown, the window broken – clothes from the closet strewn out over the floor. And there was a horrible smell resonating from the writing on the wall.

"You know, it doesn't look that bad…And I can fix the window" Xander offered.

Buffy ignored him, and stepped closer to the wall at the far end. Scrawled in a greeny, slimey, and definitely smelly kinda… slime were the words:

'My Cheese is green today…'

Buffy muttered them aloud. Beneath that hastily scrawled sentence, was another line, which Giles continued:

"Apocalypse is coming; thanks for the orb, signed MoW"

"Mow?" Xander asked. "As in 'Mr. Lorne. Mow – er"

Dawn rolled her eyes. "Xander, even my jokes aren't that bad"

"No, I, uh, I, I believe it's pronounced Maou"

"Oh, a Maou demon!" Anya exclaimed.

"You've heard of it?" Giles said.

"Yes, back in my demon days…"

The Scooby Gang waited for her to continue.

"Well?" Prompted Dawn "what's it like?"

"I said I'd 'heard of it'. I didn't say I knew what it looked like, nor what it's evil agenda was" She studied the wall some more. "Though this one apparently needs a new fridge"

"Thanks a bunch, Ahn" Xander commented. Anya glowered at him. He returned to the broken window, to which he felt strangely attached. Even if he ended up being a spare part later on, he knew that at least he could return to his window. And make jokes about it. At least he had that.

Giles went up to Buffy, who was still stood staring at the wall.

"You ok?"

"Look at this mess!" she turned to him. "I don't want mess. I want clean, unbreaky things. That don't cost money and don't need replacing"

"Least it wasn't designer wallpaper" Giles offered with a wry smile, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"That doesn't make it any better" Buffy prodded at the rapidly hardening slime. "And I don't think this stuff is gonna KleenEze off"

"Least now I can get my all goth bedroom, with black walls" Dawn said.

"No. You. Can. Not"

Dawn folded her arms. "Well I've gotta rebel sometime, aside from nearly getting run over, I'm not doing very well"

Buffy glowered.

"Ok, apart from the 'stealing for attention' thing, which was very lame…And bad" Dawn added quickly. "Very bad. I'm a bad bad girl and must be punished"

Even Xander stopped at that one.

"You nearly got run over?" Anya chirped "What was it like?"

Buffy took a deep breath. "Guys, as much as I love standing in another wrecked room, we have work to do. Research"

"Yes, Buffy's right" Giles put his glasses back on, and then promptly took them back off again. "We need to find out what this MoW demon wants, especially as it's threatening an apocalypse"

"Buffy, what's your orb like?" Xander asked, and then blushed, mortified. Buffy grinned at him, and raised an eyebrow. "What I mean is…" He stammered. "I mean – the orb orb. The orb-shaped…The one the graffiti-liking demon wrote about"

She smiled at him. "I know. And you have a point which I'll swiftly turn over to our watcher here. Giles?"

"Well, erm…It's difficult to say"

"I think I know which orb the MoW demon was talking about" Dawn intercepted. "It was one I found…well, was given. I kept it on my desk" She glanced at the piece of furniture that had decided it didn't like itself anymore and had broken itself into eight pieces "It was pretty – like glass with a little swirly purple thing in it"

"Cute" Buffy commented.

"Yeah. Well, sometimes, it changed colour. I was using it for a paperweight"

"You say it changed colour?" Giles strolled thoughtfully across the room, one arm of his glasses resting on his bottom lip.

"Yeah, from a purple swirly thing to a pink or blue swirly thing. Oh, and it got warm too" She added.

"Oh dear lord". The Ex-Librarian, ex shop-owner sighed deeply, and paused, staring at the far wall. Then he turned. "The Orb of Apoc"

"The Orb of Apoc" Xander echoed gravely. He paused. "What's that?"

"One of the most powerful and, and simply terrifying energy orbs ever created, by, by both man and monster. It works by drawing energy, emotion and raising taxes. This orb, if it's fallen into the wrong hands" He drew a sharp breath. "This could be catastrophic"

Buffy turned on Dawn. "You had this Orb all the time? It's the Orbiest Orb of them all, and you had it here, in this house. As a paperweight!"

"I didn't know!"

"Dawn, a paperweight!?"

Giles coughed. "Well, actually, it's an easy mistake to make"

Buffy looked at him, and sighed in resignation.

"So, what does this 'Orb to rule All Orbs' do exactly?" Xander asked. "Just so we can undo it. Before it happens."

"Disaster" Anya muttered, from where she was sat on Dawn's bed. "Pain. Loss…Death"

"Yippee" Xander replied "And already this feels so familiar"

"But how Giles?" Buffy said with concern. "How does it do this?" Giles bit his lip, and stared out the window.

"It creates an energy rift, using the sun and the hell dimensions" He said slowly. "Time breaks down, the, the users, they can stop time, undo it. The dead, the dead are reversed"

"Reversed?" Xander asked.

"Resurrected" Anya explained.

"Oh. Ew. Or perhaps yay"

Giles gave Xander a look and continued. "This orb, if used correctly, it, uh, it opens the hellmouth so wide, that the earth is swallowed whole, and all alive suffer in hell forever. If it gets into the wrong hands"

"Like demon hands"

"Thank you Anya, yes, demon hands" There was silence in the room, as all present digested this dramatic information.

"The hellmouth. Will open" Buffy commented. She looked at the others. "Anyone else getting a sense of déjà vu?"

One by one, they all nodded.

"Good. I thought it was just me"


	8. Chapter 8: 'Bananas in Pyjamas'

Chapter 8: 'Banana's in Pyjamas'

Back at Tescos, Willow and Spike regarded each other nervously. Inching through the door, Spike backing off slightly, Willow closed the door behind her, before leaning against it.

"What are you doing here?" She whispered fiercely. "You're evil!"

"So are you, last I heard"

"What? No. How did you know about that?"

Spike smirked, and leant casually against the wall. "News travels. Specially near-apocalypse news caused by an evil Wicca"

"Will you stop saying that? I'm not evil anymore"

"No less evil than me pet"

"Much less! I haven't massacred half of Europe for one thing!" Willow frowned, confused. "But I'm not evil. Giles has seen to that. I'm working with a coven, and working here – and I don't want to be evil anymore. I don't want people to be afraid of me"

Spike glanced at the stripy blue and white uniform Willow was wearing.

"You sure about that?"

Willow narrowed her eyes. "Yes" She said shortly. "Now what do you want, Spike?" 

The vampire looked hurt.

"I told you Red, I've come to buy my groceries"

"From here?"

"I used to shop here a lot. Of course, a hundred years ago, this place was a brothel, but, you know, it hasn't changed that much" He looked around, studying the ceiling and the windows. "Yeah, the kiosk used to be right here. Lead through to a quaint little room, where you picked your…

"Spike"

He stopped talking. Willow noticed for the first time how wild he looked, his blue eyes flashing in the fluorescent light, his hair longer and less tamed. He also wasn't wearing his normal leather jacket. He was wearing what looked to be an anorak?

Willow blinked. "It's great that you're here an' all, but, can you just go? Just buy your groceries, and go?"

Spike grinned. "Oh I would Red, but, erm – look around"

Willow frowned and stepped forward, to stare round at the rest of the shop.

"I don't think anyone's going to be buying much of anything"

This was weird. The whole store was frozen. Not your arctic wind variety, but just…stopped. Willow couldn't quite get her head round what she was seeing. Her colleagues, and other customers and even Mrs. Thump the Evil Manager; all were poised, mid-movement. Willow had to smile slightly, as she saw her manager had been stopped whilst picking her nose.

"What…what is this? Did you do this?"

"Me pet? Hardly" Spike nonchalantly crossed his arms. "I just came here for some marshmallows"

Willow stared, wide-eyed. She saw Rachel, at a till, her arms out-stretched, handing another frozen customer some frozen change. It was like some had pressed the pause button on the remote.

"What's doing this?"

Spike shrugged. "Spell, I reckon"

"A spell?" Willow looked wary. She'd already caused a dimensional shift one morning, when she was late for work. The M25 had been blocked. She'd only moved all the traffic for a couple of minutes into another dimension (the one where there was no such thing as daytime television. Nice place), but it was still breaking all the laws the coven had taught her. The scary thing was, it hadn't been intentional. She'd just…thought it. 

"What kind of spell?" she asked.

"You tell me. You're the Wicca" Spike moved from where he was leaning and came over to stand next to Willow. Willow flinched slightly. Neither of them got too close to the other. Spike put a hand out, testing for any barrier or shield. "Strange how we're the only ones who're unaffected"

Willow considered this, and just felt more perplexed. Spike wandered over to a random customer, who was purchasing a basket full of bananas and waved a hand in front of her face. There was no response.

"I don't understand" Willow commented, moving over to one of the store doors. They refused to open, and she pushed at it with her hands. "It's like the entire building is just frozen in time, even the doors and the windows. This doesn't make any-"

Suddenly there came a crash from behind her. Whirling around, Willow saw Spike standing shamefully over Banana-buying Lady, who was now purchasing her bananas whilst flat on her back.

"They're rigid" Spike offered. He prodded the customer with his foot. "Like mannequins" Kneeling down, Spike helped himself to a banana out her basket.

"Spike, don't!" Willow cried. She gave up trying to open the doors. "You don't know what it'll do to you"

Spike smirked, and looked up at her as she walked over. "You worried for me, Red?"

"No" Willow's eyes flashed indignantly. "And, actually, I'd rather you weren't here at all, it'd be easier and less worrying, but you are, and I've got to talk to you, and I don't want another death on my hands" Willow bit her lip, paused, lost in thought.

Spike dropped the offending banana back into the basket. 

"Right you are then"

Shaking herself out her reverie, Willow spoke again. "Now, we have to find out what's going on" Willow walked back across the store, speaking her thoughts aloud. She stood at the window. "At the moment, the spell's only affecting Tescos"

"Perhaps it's a rival supermarket. Delved into the black arts for a bit of unfriendly rivalry" Spike walked up to Willow, stood beside her. She gave him a look, then continued.

"The spell, at the moment, is only affecting here. But that doesn't mean it's gonna stay like this. We have to stop it, and undo it, before it spreads"

Spike sighed. "We? Bugger. If only I'd gone to Sainsburys, I could've been home by now"

"Spike – this could be serious. We don't know what we're dealing with"

"Well why don't you phone up your friends and that ex-Librarian with the squishy frontal lobes, and ask them?" Spike paused, as he saw a look of doubt cross Willow's face. "Unless, of course, they're all too scared of you?"

"Spike, shush"

"Why Red? You-"

"Shush!" Willow froze. Reflecting in the glass in the front of her, was a large hairy demon, crossing an aisle right at the back of the shop. Dog food, she thought correctly. Spike noticed the demon too, and fell silent.

"We're trapped in here with a demon" Willow whispered, stating the obvious.

"You don't say"

"I'm trapped in here. _You're_ trapped in here"

Spike got the gist of where she was going with that.

"Thanks" He told her.

From the back of the shop, the demon roared.


	9. Chapter 9: 'I'd like to sing a song'

Chapter 9: 'I'd like to sing a song'

"Roourh Mabam"

"Yuuor tyll"

"seema kaplow"

"Chomp chomp chomp"

The two hair demons laughed to themselves. 

After they'd killed the Humans, they'd climbed into the strange contraption that Man called a 'Chee-nook' and pressed every single button there was. It was absolutely fascinating, but they were also very lucky that Officer Tomlinson had taken the keys out the ignition; otherwise they'd have been 10,000 feet up by now, deploying ladders, safety nets, and playing Linkin Park at full volume through the inbuilt stereo system.

The demons laughed again.

"Argh la min. Munch munch munch" The demon that the General had been temporarily named 'A' stood up and pulled his head hair into spikes, looked broody, and then bared his yellow teeth. Demon B (the one in the suit) rolled his eyes in his big shaggy demon head, then barked:

"Angel: The series!"

"Yuo" 

If you haven't already guessed, they were playing charades.

Unlike what Lieutenant Kash had believed, these weren't lawyer demons, merely accountants (though some might say that didn't make them any less scary). They'd been ordered to steal the Chinook by their boss, as part of their company's 'big evil scheme© 2003'.  This they'd done efficiently, tidily and had got a souvenir foot as a bonus (it had pride of place on the dashboard, though I don't think Lieutenant Kash considered it much of an ornament, and would rather it was attached to the bottom of his leg). Now there was nothing else to do until they received word from their boss, but wait.

Elsewhere, around the globe, others of their kind were doing their bit for the scheme. A's cousin was currently raiding the biggest cheese factory in Sweden, an assignment A greatly wished he had been given. It showed a great deal of faith when the Boss saw you fit to handle the cheese.

One day, A thought (in his own language), I too will be assigned to the Cheese. He looked wistful, not that you could actually see it because his head was like a mop, but the emotion was there.

Now Demon B stood up and made a fist with his big hairy hands. Then he dived bombed the fist towards the floor, making a 'Bzzz' noise with his tongue, before making it all explode (not literally. These are demons, not mad men). Demon A guffawed.

"Firefly! Arck mack!" He shouted. The two laughed rowdily together. 

At the moment Charades was their favourite game, indeed they'd been playing it for the last three hours. Unfortunately, that was just because Demon B had forgotten the pack of cards, and Demon A had left the travel version of 'Guess Who?' on the train. In reality, they weren't having much fun at all.

But it passed the time. Which is good when you consider in some places time wasn't passing at all.


	10. Chapter 10: The 'It's gone nine o clock'...

Chapter 10: 'The 'It's gone nine o clock' Club

It was now evening. The dead Ikea table had been relegated to sub-plot B, and put in the spare bedroom. Instead, the Scooby Gang were gathered in the living room, having a big meeting, and trying to decide how to stop the world from ending before the world actually ended. Though they'd done this before (eight times, in fact) it did not get any easier. In fact, Buffy thought, it got harder because you could never learn from your previous attempts – and any mistakes that were made, well, you couldn't exactly go back and correct them when the earth resembled little more than a pile of sand. A pile of wet sand. With crabs in it. 

No, she mused, apocalypses did not get better with practice.

"Buffy?" Xander's voice disturbed the slayer from her thoughts.

"What? I'm listening" 

"You disappeared into the world of the buffster for a minute there" He told her.

"Your mouth was open" Dawn commented slyly.

"Oh"

"But you didn't start dribbling. We stopped you before that happened"

She looked at him. "Thanks". 

Xander smiled.

"We're the dribble-protectors. Protectors against Dribble"

"There to stop your every drool" Added Dawn.

"Right". 

A pointed cough from the fireplace distracted her from the intruiging conversation. Looking over, Buffy realized it wasn't the fireplace, just Giles. Looking irritable.

Oops.

"Giles?"

"I _was_ talking" He said, sounding mildly frustrated. "And as we're facing an apocalypse I really don't think discussions of your…" He searched for an alternative word and found none "- dribble -" Buffy smiled as she saw him wince. "are particularly appropriate".

"You're right. I'm listening"

"Yeah, we're all ears Giles"

Giles sighed again, realizing that when he was in England he rarely sighed, nor felt frustrated, and never ever had to deal with trying to teach 21 year olds the importance of listening to talks about the upcoming apocalypse. The only thing he worried about whilst in England was running out of milk. And the aforementioned 21 year olds hundreds of miles away.

He sighed again.

"Well, as I already established" Giles began, looking hopefully at those sat on the sofa and chair. They blinked. Giles started to wish he worked in a bakery. "As I established, the demons"

"The Maou Demons!" Anya said helpfully.

"Yes, the MoW demons, one of which broke into Dawn's bedroom today, have now got the Orb of Apoc"

"The Orb to Rule all Orbs"

"Buffy, must we bring Lord of the Rings Literary references into this?"

"Sorry. I just thought you'd be proud to know that I've read it"

Giles stared pointedly.

"I've seen the movies"

Giles removed his glasses, and sighed. 

"So, what else do we know?" Dawn asked. "Aside from the 'raising taxes, raising the dead, stopping time, and raising hell' bit?"

"Not much. We know that, that to reverse all effects, the orb must be –"

"Destroyed?" Buffy offered.

"Sang to"

Dumbfounded silence. Riveting plot twist.

"Wait a minute…You're saying that in order to prevent the end of the world we have to – sing?" Xander looked perplexed.

"Yes"

"Yippee! Another musical!"

All eyes looked at Anya. "Well, I'd rather sing again than give all my hard-earned cash to the government!"

Buffy thought of the bill-mountain that she was currently storing in the bath. 

"She has a point". 

Anya smiled happily. The rest of them just felt worried, anxious, and as it was now nine o clock in the evening – slightly hungry, as they mulled over this rather surreal piece of new information. Giles, who had already known this piece of information, thought of home and kicked himself as he realized he'd forgotten to feed the canary. He hoped Herbert wouldn't starve. 

Not that the canary was called Herbert… 

Damn Anya and her penchant for naming things.

Taking a deep breath, The Slayer stood descisivly, turning to look at Giles. He looked questioningly at her.

"All we have to do is sing to the orb, and then anything that the demons have used it for is undone? That solves all the apocalypse problems? Poof – no more orb" she asked slowly.

"Or taxes" Anya added. Giles frowned, and Buffy waited tentatively for the answer.

"Well, yes actually…" The glasses were put back on. "That's more or less…it, to be honest"

Buffy raised her eyebrows. "Well that took less time than normal"

"Perhaps he's getting more concise in his old age" Anya whispered across to her.

"I heard that" Giles said. He started to approach the sofa where they were all sitting. "And I think you'll find that whilst we know, in theory, how to stop it, we've barely scratched the surface. We, we have to locate the demons, retrieve the orb, and god knows the havoc they're going to cause before we do that"

"You know, and I was hoping I was going to get an early night" Xander said dryly.

"What other kind of night do you have?" Anya replied.

Buffy put her hands on her hips. "Guys, we need to research. We need to find out all we can about these MoW demons; where they live, _how_ they live, any sharp protruding pointy things we should know about"

"Well we know they're strong, Buff. One of them took out you"

"Exactly Xander. It knows that about me. So we need to know exactly how to kill it"

"I can do that" Dawn said eagerly. "The research, not the killing. Though killing would be cool too" She sounded hopeful.

"No" Buffy said pointedly. "You're not killing. But go wild for the research"

Dawn grinned, and got up from the sofa, going to retrieve the laptop from the other room.

"You've gotta admire her enthusiasm. She's no slacker" Xander leant back on the sofa "I remember the days when I had that thirst for knowledge…"

"Xander, you never had that thirst for knowledge" Giles explained.

"I read the books!"

"No" Buffy said. "You looked at the pictures of the naked nymphs"

"Ah, yes. And very educational that was too"

"Not when I needed them it wasn't!" Giles said. There was a silent pause. "For research" He added.

The collective imagery threatened to cause the roof to cave in. In the other room, the Ikea table couldn't take anymore, and started to cry, wishing it was still disassembled in it's pre-packed box.

Xander shuddered. "I'm think I'm going to go read something…without pictures"

The others hastily followed him, leaving Giles stood alone in the living room.

"Well if they must have such dirty minds" He muttered.


	11. Chapter 11: 'Food, Glorious Food'

Chapter 11: 'Food, glorious Food'

"Cheep – Cheep – Cheeeeeeep!!!"

The Canary sang quietly to himself, hopping from his big wooden perch, to his slightly smaller, naffer perch below, and then back up again. He was trying to distract himself from the noises his stomach was making. His hunger was eating him from the ankles up and strengthening his leg muscles had seemed the ideal way to stop this. Now though, he wasn't so sure. His legs were hurting, and the hunger had crept up to his knees. He wondered what life he would be like if he became a legless canary, but the thought was too great for his brain to cope with, and all he did was give himself a headache. 

He was so hungry he thought he might pass out.

In the vain hope that Mr Tweed (as he had fondly nicknamed his owner) had filled up his feed dish and he'd just neglected to tell him, the Canary hopped down to the bottom of his cage. He shut his eyes as he approached, so it would be a super surprise when he saw the shiny dish packed full, over-flowing with glorious, fresh, rich bird mix.

He opened one eye, and then the other, and sighed with disappointment. 

Alas, no. The shiny dish was still emptily shiny, except for the horrible little yellow things that tasted like cardboard and got stuck in his beak. There was no glorious food mix to eat after all. He looked disdainfully at the yellow bits. He supposed if Mr Tweed didn't come back soon he'd have to eat them. The Canary picked one up in his beak and nibbled thoughtfully. Then he spat it back out. He'd wait a little longer first.

Tapping one toe in frustration, he moved across the cage to find a part of the newspaper he hadn't yet read. His lessons were going well. His Aunty Hilda had taught him the core basics back at home: Get your letters up the right way, read from left to right, don't forget to breathe, and all he'd been doing was elaborating on that. Ah, here was something.

'Cheese disappears from factory' 

Right, well, this should be easy. He frowned, tipped his head on one side, and started at the beginning.

Cheese. Chee-ese. He said it aloud to himself "Cheep. Chee-eep" He blinked happily, and flapped his wings a little in excitement. "Cheep!" He cried. "Cheep cheep cheep". He'd heard of this strange creature called Cheese. His Granny Mildred had told him stories of it, how it lived in the great cold, feeding on air until it got strong enough to walk (putting on green armor before hand) and leaving to migrate to be with others Cheese kind in the Land of Dust Bin. He'd never heard of it eating canaries, but you couldn't be too careful. He looked around nervously. If it was important enough to make the newspaper, then if could be anywhere!

The empty living room stared back at him, and the canary felt satisfied he wasn't going to get ambushed.

He turned back to the newspaper, continued to decipher the writing. An hour later, he had it. 'Cheese disappears from factory'. He felt very proud of himself. He didn't actually know what a factory was, but he reckoned that it was the great cold place, where the Cheese lived. Silly humans, he thought, not realizing that the cheese has left the country. He thought that Sunnydale must be a very boring place if cheese was all they had to report on.

His stomach rumbled, and he realized that his hunger had got worse. If he wasn't careful he really was going to end up eating those nasty yellow bits at the bottom of his dish.

Suddenly a noise came from the direction of the front door, and the canary perked up considerably. This was it. His faithful owner Mr. Tweed had returned to him, armed with bags and bags of bird mix, enough to feed him for years. The door handle rattled, then stopped.

That's odd, thought the canary. Normally he opens it after the rattling. The door handle rattled again. Ah, maybe he's got his hands full with all the bird mix

"Cheep Cheep!" He called out.

Suddenly the door crashed open, slamming against the wall, a great big split down the side, and a dark shape stood in the doorway.

The Canary squinted, and wished he'd remembered to pack his glasses before he'd gone on holiday. It was a human-shaped shape, but he didn't think it was Mr Tweed. And whoever it was _certainly_ wasn't carrying any bird food.

"Cheep" He said sadly. He resigned himself to the fact that he would be eating the yellow bits at sometime in the near future.

The figure shut the broken door behind him and moved into the room. He took off his jacket, humming an odd tune under his breath, crossing the room, running his hands over the worktop, looking around. It was as if he'd been here before.

"Cheep?" The canary asked politely. The man smiled broadly, and went over to the cage. He opened up the little door, and the Canary obligingly hopped onto the outstretched finger.

"Well aren't you a cutey? Always knew Ripper'd get a bird eventually"

"Cheep" The Canary said, having no idea what this man had just said, but really hoping it was about food. He indicated with his head towards his very pitiful and empty dish. The man chuckled. "Blonde _and_ intelligent, let's hope Rupert can keep you"

Letting the canary back into his cage, the man took the bowl out of the cage. He looked around thoughtfully, before going over to a small sack under the telephone table. The smell of bird mix wafted through the air, and the canary thought he was going to die from excitement.

"cheep cheep cheep!!" He sang. Now now now! He watched as a wonderful golden stream of nuts and seeds and uck, those icky yellow things, was poured into his bowl, and ran around the bottom of his cage in excitement. "Cheep Cheep"

"Steady Steady. Wouldn't want you to explode now, would we?" The man said. He chuckled again, and put the bowl back into his cage.

The Canary couldn't eat fast enough. He muttered a garbled thank-you through beakfulls of food, but really didn't want to stop.

The Man stood and watched for a moment.

 "Well" The man said. "That's the canary sorted. What about me?"

When the canary (or anybody else for that matter) neglected to reply, he put the kettle on instead, and started to make himself at home. He had plenty of time. By this time tomorrow, he'd probably have too much of it. He hoped Ripper was prepared. Otherwise they'd all be dead, and he'd be seriously out of money.

That thought bothered him.

"Perhaps a scotch would be better" He muttered.

Ethan Rayne started to root through the cupboards in search for a decent drink.


	12. Chapter 12: Dum du dum dum DUMMMM!

Chapter 12: 'Dum Du Dum Dum DUMMMM!'

"Well this is fun" Spike said. Opposite him, Willow peered through the gap nervously, listening carefully for any sound of a hairy demon.

"Can you hear anything?" She asked. 

"Hear what luv?"

"The demon"

Spike raised his eyebrows, and looked around for a moment. He pursed his lips.

"Nope. Can't hear a sodding thing. Though perhaps that's because we're locked in the ladies _toilet_"

Willow turned round from her position at the door, her eyes indignant.

"You're the one who decided to come in here"

Spike smirked, and got up from his seat. "Perhaps I did luv. What I didn't plan on was spending the next three hours with only toilet roll and the smell of bleach for company"

"Where are you going?"

"Out"

"What?"

"I plan on taking a stroll between the frozen chips and picnic sausages" He pushed past her, opening the door of the cubicle. "Don't worry, I'll be back"

"Great" Willow murmured. She watched as the vampire opened to door that exited onto the shop floor, and then disappeared.

Cautiously, Willow also left the cubicle. The room was lit with ultra-violet light, and it made her hair look green. She grimaced. Turning the tap on, she splashed some cold water on her face, then dried her hands on her uniform. This was getting boring, and tedious. No more boring and tedious than any other normal day at Tescos, but it was starting to worry her. She was trapped in a supermarket with a demon. Maybe more than one. And there was Spike, just to add to the fun.

Willow sighed. She was connected to everything, she was addicted to tea, and her life was once again in danger. Hell, she might as well be back in Sunnydale.

She wished she _was_ back in Sunnydale.

"Spike!" Willow called out, opening the door, and creeping back out onto the shop. The Vamp raised his eyebrows, and looked up as she emerged. He was sat on one of the benches provided for past-it customers, looking as if he didn't have a care in the world. The laid-back image was spoilt slightly by the anorak he was wearing.

"There's no demon around here" Spike called out. "Not for the moment anyway";

guessing what she was going to ask.

Willow frowned, and looked cautiously from side to side, before scurrying across the shop towards him. They were near the entrance, and outside cars were parked in endless queues, a major tailback.

No, not parked. Frozen. 

"Looks like this thing's spreading" Spike observed.

"Yeah" Willow watched silently out the window, as the people inside the vehicles did absolutely nothing. They were frozen too, just like everyone inside the supermarket. Everyone was frozen, stopped in time. It was like a disease, an inky blackness that crept inside and over everything and everyone. Everyone except them.

"Spike, we have to figure out what this is!" She cried in frustration.

"We do?"

"Why are we the only ones still movable?"

Spike thought. "Because we're American?"

"You're not!"

"Well spotted pet" Spike paused. "Well I'm dead…"

"But I'm not!" Willow argued. She looked down at her torso, hidden beneath the stripy uniform. "Or at least, I don't think I am"

"You're not"

"Good" Willow licked her lips nervously. "So?" She demanded. 

"So?"

"What is it?"

"Don't have a clue" Spike got to his feet. "But what I do know is that our demon friend is back"

Willow whirled around to see a large hairy-looking demon making it's way towards them. It's beady evil eyes stared out from underneath a head of hairy hair.

"We, we have to fight it!" She stammered.

The demon roared, showing rows of yellow, pointy teeth. It pushed over a couple of stationary customers, a little old lady with a basket full of cat food rolling halfway across the shop floor.

"Fight it?" Spike looked dubious. It roared again, and shouted:

"Argh Gamax, gamaxk!"

"Do you speak demon!?" Willow cried, as both she and Spike started backing off. Spike looked at her.

"Ok, so you don't" Willow looked back at the demon, who was advancing steadily. "Did involve something about letting us go?"

Spike rolled his eyes.

"_We_ have to get out of here" He told her. 

"Ok" 

Spike looked around, before seeing a vacuum cleaner, still in it's box. A fat English dude wearing an odd hat, was halfway towards the door, holding it out in front of him. The vampire pulled it out the customer's hands, grabbed the end and swung it towards the glass of the window.

The box bounced back, and Spike staggered to one side.

"RARRGHH" Roared the demon, very originally.

"Spike!" Willow squeaked. She waved her hands. "Break it _now_, if you're going to break it!"

Spike grunted, and swung the heavy box again. The window stayed stubbornly put.

"Can't you do a barrier spell or something?" He yelled. "You're the one with the magic-fingers – stop the demon!" He heaved the box at the window again and then flung it aside in disgust. When this place had been a brothel there hadn't even _been_ any windows. Why'd they have to put some in place now?

Willow stared at the demon, wide eyed. 

"I can't" She whispered.

"Well, you're gonna have to" Spike stormed over to stand by her side, rolling up the sleeves of his anorak. "Because I don't happen to have a hammer with me"

"Ryull, martak retupop" Spat the demon. It was taking its time, enjoying the walk, the air, the scenery. Nothing like cornflakes and the smell of bottled milk to make a good day out. "Tutfy Ralloppz"

"May you go freely?" Willow translated hopefully. Spike's look of disdain and the flexing of his fists persuaded otherwise. "Oh, ok" She sighed. "But if we end up in the dimension with no daytime television, don't blame me"

Taking a deep breath, Willow closed her eyes, summoning powers and dodgy special effects.

"Muscipula!" She cried, directing one open palm at the demon. It screamed in pain, and collapsed on the ground, before ravenously chomping on a large piece of cheese. 

Spike and Willow stared at it incredulously.

"You put it in a giant _mousetrap_?" Spike asked. Willow stared some more.

"I didn't mean to…" She said slowly. The Demon twitched a little, its torso crushed beneath the giant metal bar. It had eaten all the cheese by now, and instead lay trapped, unable to push itself free.

"You're a weird-ass Wicca, Red. No wonder people think you're evil"

"I'm not evil!" She cried. Willow looked again at the demon trapped in the giant mousetrap. Giant mousetrap. Giant _mousetrap. _

"My Latin's a little rusty, that's all" She added indignantly.

Spike rolled his eyes.

"Right, well I don't know about you, but I'm going to get out of here" He sniffed. He strolled over to an empty till, and picked up a three-legged stool. "Ah, this'll do"

Then he ran back and swung it at the window. This time the window _did _break, indeed it shattered, glass raining down around him.

The summer air drifted through from outside.

"Right, well, I'll be off then" Spike hopped onto the window ledge, and then paused as he felt the angry eyes of Willow 'I'll put you in a mousetrap' Rosenburg burning into his back. "What?" He called back, without looking.

"Where are you going?"

"Back to my crypt" He replied. "Well, it's more of a summer holiday house, actually…"

"Spike, you can't just ignore this"

Sighing, Spike swung round and sat on the window ledge so he could look at Willow face to face.

"Why not?"

"Why? Because it's spreading. We have to do something to stop it!"

"I don't. I'm evil remember"

Willow marched up to him, arms crossed.

"Yeah? Well think of this, Mr 'Evil-As-It-Suits-Me'. Pretty soon, the world's going to be frozen, all of it, and we're going to be the only two left walking"

Spike grinned. "That's not so bad – you're pretty hot, especially since you became a - "

Willow's glare stopped him. 

"Sales Assistant?" He added lamely.

"_I'm_ going to be stuck with _you!_" Willow said. "You can't just go home!" 

Spike looked as though he'd just been told he was going to have to eat his own eyeballs.

"Fine" He said, grudgingly. "But I'm not doing this just so Buffy loves me"

"I never even mentioned Buffy!" Willow exclaimed, confused, and then stopped as something struck her. "Oh, but Buffy. And Xander – they're all going get frozen! You see now why we have to do something?"

Spike held up his hands. "Ok, Red. I got the message. So what do we have to do?"

"The Watcher's Council" Willow said decisively. "And fast"

"Fine" Spike swung his legs back round, and jumped out the broken window onto the pavement on the other side. He watched as Willow followed behind him.

"I hope I don't get sacked because you broke the window" She said, eyeing the broken glass.

"Ah, someone'll fix it" Spike said.

They set off walking down the frozen street.


	13. Chapter 13: I'm just a poor old research...

Chapter 13: 'I'm just a poor old researcher'

Somewhere, someplace, a window had just broken.

Xander looked up from the incredibly dull and boring book he was reading, as that thought hurtled into his head like a large train, and frowned. 

He didn't actually know why he'd just thought that, but it seemed important somehow. Or maybe that was just because he was dying from a rare strain of brokenwindow-worryitus, brought about by this book. Or paralytic boredom. Or both.

He shut it with a loud 'smop' and sat back in his chair, sighing loudly.

Buffy looked up.

"Urdu" He said to her questioning gaze.

"What?" She asked.

"Urdu. That's the language I'm pretending I can read. This is pointless"

"And here we were just thinking you were pretending to _read_" Anya said, looking up from the large scroll-y thing she was studying.

Xander ignored her.

"Urdu?" Giles took off his glasses and stood to look over Xander's shoulder. "I, I wasn't aware we had any texts in Urdu"

Xander held up his hands. "Well, it's written in something wonky. I'm saying Urdu"

Giles frowned, and picked up the book for a closer look.

"Oh no, no, It's not Urdu"

"Well, there you go. But it doesn't mean I can read it"

"I'm not sure what it is. In fact, I, I'm not even sure what _book_ this is. Where did you find it?"

Xander shrugged. "On the table, with the other boring books"

Buffy looked at the precariously leaning pile. "And there are so many of them" She said "Lucky us".

"C'mon Buff, this is what makes Slaying so fun!"

She looked at him. "No part of Slaying is fun"

Dawn stopped searching the Internet to join the conversation.

"I think this bit's fun" She had a big grin on her face, as she searched the 'Demons Demons Demons' website for information.

"You're a geek honey" Buffy said fondly. Dawn's outraged look caused her to add. 

"A very trendy… cool…popular geek"

"Yeah" Xander agreed. "You're just like your sister was" 

"Was?" Buffy glowered at him 

"_Is_. Just like you sister _is_"

Dawn's face filled with disbelief. She looked Buffy up and down, then looked worried. Buffy saw that look. The two sisters scowled at him.

"I'm not like her" They both said simultaneously.

"Giles, the Urdu?" He said quickly, before he got beaten up.

"It's not Urdu Xander" Giles scanned the pages of the book hastily. "It appears to be some demon script"

"Demon" Xander nodded. "Interesting"

The glares that were burning into his chest started to cause his shirt to smoulder.

"Do we know _what_ demon?"

"Xander, I can't decipher something like this in a couple of minutes"

"No, no" He glanced quickly at Dawn and Buffy. Yup, they were still glowering. Smoke ribboned from the 4 eye-shaped holes in his shirt. He turned back to Giles. "But try, yeah?"

From the other end of the table, Anya smirked.

"No, it appears to be the religious texts of a demon cult actually" The Ex-Watcher continued. "Oh, good lord!"

"There he goes again" Buffy commented. "That famous Gilesian phrase"

"We should put on his tombstone" Anya offered helpfully. "After he's dead, obviously. I've heard it's what you do to show affection"

"Thank you Anya" Giles said distractedly.

"Plus you do say it a lot"

 "As I was saying…"

"Oh good lord" Dawn said innocently.

"Yes, quite. Well, I believe this book" Giles put his glasses back on. "I believe this book to be the…the main religious text of The MoW demon"

"The MoW demon? You mean the demon that stole the orb?" 

"Yes, actually"

"Well that's convenient" Buffy said. She tossed the book in her lap gratefully onto the table. "Guess no more researching for us then"

"Thank god!" Dawn said, shutting the lid of the laptop. "I was getting _so_ bored"

"Well, no, not quite yet. I, I still have some checks to do. And there's a lot of text to translate" Giles wandered from the table to sit in the armchair, muttering to himself. "Absolutely fascinating…Uncial script from the underworld…Incredibly well preserved"

Xander watched him go. As soon as Giles sat down he said:

"Well, guess I got us out of research duty"

Dawn yawned. "And I for one say thank you very much" She told him. 

"It's late" Buffy said, looking at her watch. "And as you have school in the morning…" The Slayer left the sentence hanging.

"What?" Dawn was outraged. "I can't go to school – I have to help save the world!"

"And you want me to put that in a note to your teacher?"

"No! But I can help you guys, can't I?"

Buffy pursed her lips.

"Can't I?"

"Dawn - " Buffy began.

"Actually, I can't go to bed. No functioning bedroom, remember?"  

"You can sleep in my room. I'll sleep in mom's old room"

Dawn sighed.

"You may as well go Dawnie, I don't think we're going to be killing demons tonight" Xander said with a small smile.

"And tomorrow?" 

A glare from Buffy dared him to contradict her. Xander remembered the smouldering shirt incident.

"Tomorrow, we, uh -"

"Tomorrow we're going to save the world" Anya said, matter of factly. "But you can't go. You have to study and become successful in the arts of spelling and pot-making"

Buffy smiled slyly. "You heard Anya". Dawn rolled her eyes, and got to her feet.

"Ok. Ok. I'm going. See me go. Going to bed, I am" She intoned.

"Dawn, your feet aren't actually moving" Buffy informed her. "Try harder"

"God! I have size seven feet, remember! This takes time!"

Eventually, Dawn stomped out the room and up the stairs.

Anya also stood up, and went over to the Watcher who was engrossed in the 'exciting' book, muttering in a foreign language to himself.

"Giles?"

"Hmm" He said, without looking up.

"I'd like to go to your bedroom now"

"What?!" Giles hadn't had a proposition like that in two years.

"My feet hurt, my hair's gooey, and I need my beauty sleep when I know I'm averting an apocalypse the next day"

Giles shut the book, and sat up. He looked incredibly uncomfortable.

"She's right you know" Buffy called out. "A girl's really getting low when she fights an apocalypse without freshly washed hair"

Giles took off his glasses, and studied the book in front of him. 

"So?" Anya prodded "Why aren't we going? I've given you enough reasons, we should be going by now. It's very impolite to keep your house guest waiting"

"Anya – I have work to do. We have to research the demons, find their weak spot"

"I thought we'd finished researching?" Buffy joined in. She prodded at the towering pile of books on the table. "I'm tired of these dusty volumes and heavy tomes" The aforementioned dusty volumes wobbled precariously, before toppling all over Xander. 

"Sorry!" Buffy yelled.

"I know you all want me to read more, but that doesn't mean you have to throw the books at me" Xander yelled back.

Giles rolled his eyes at the slapstick comedy unraveling behind him. In front of him, Anya hovered like a puppy waiting to go for a walk. Her large eyes looked at him, her lips in a small pout. From the table came laughs and shouts, and generally too much noise for this time on an evening. Giles stood up, frustrated. 

"Ok. Anya, I'm now going home. I can't…I can't exactly work here anyway" He glanced at Xander, who was cradling about twenty heavy books in his lap, and at Buffy who was trying to dig him out from beneath them.

"Very dusty volumes" He heard Xander cough.

"Good. I want to go home with you" Anya told Giles. "Because my home is now your home, at the moment"

"I am aware of that Anya"

"Good" She hugged him tightly, and Giles tentatively hugged back. "Because if your home wasn't my home, I wouldn't have anywhere to live"

"Yes"

"Plus you'd only have Herbert for company"

The Canary! Giles remembered that he'd remembered he'd forgotten to feed it and kicked himself.

"Yes, uh, quite. Buffy?" He said, Anya pulling away. She looked at him, having more or less dug Xander free from the heavy tomes. "I'm…we're going. Ring me if _anything_ unusual happens"

"You know me Giles. Unusual always results in Giles ringage"

"Good"

The four said their goodbyes, and Xander and Buffy were left alone in the living room. It was late, gone midnight, and Buffy suddenly felt very tired. After she watched Giles and Anya get into Giles' car and drive away, she shut the door and slid the lock across it. The house seemed suddenly empty and quieter. 

Xander brushed the dust from his arms and the front of his shirt.

"Giles should take better care of his books" He complained.

"I shouldn't have thrown them at you"

"Nah, it's ok" Xander smiled slightly. "I've had worse things thrown at me. Like swords, fangs, severed heads. And, worst of all, bills. Anya always made me deal with them. She couldn't stand the thought that she'd have to give money away"

Buffy sighed heavily, and collapsed on the sofa. "God…don't talk about bills. Not with an apocalypse coming up"

"Hey, we don't know that the world's ending tomorrow"

"Don't we?" Buffy rubbed her eyes and then sat up to look at Xander. "If it's not tomorrow, then it's the day after. And that's only this time. After we've destroyed the orb, stopped the monsters – there's just going to be another apocalypse caused by something else"

"Around mid May, I think you'll find"

"What?"

"Nothing" Xander stood, then came and sat down next to Buffy. "Don't get so down about it" He told her " You're Buffy. I have faith that you'll stop the demons, destroy the orb-"

"By singing" Buffy winced.

"By singing, yes, which may be unpleasant and rather ridiculous, but you'll do it. And then we can all go to the Bronze and party"

"Good to know you'll be there, backing me up"

"Hey" Xander looked at her seriously. "I will be. We will be. You might regret it when you hear me sing, however, but…"

Buffy took his hand.

"Thanks. A lot. "

Xander grinned, embarrassed. "Just doing the good ol' Xander pep-talk"

Buffy paused, then let go of his hand. "Y'know, I think it worked. Suddenly everything's shiny and sparkling, like tinsel" 

"Like what?"

"I've been talking to Giles"

"Oh"

The two sat on the sofa, staring at the carpet. A cloud of dust was still rising from the disturbed books and drifting like a rain cloud that had gone on vacation and didn't quite know what to do next. In the kitchen the clock on the cooker ticked loudly.

"I better go - "

"Xander - " The two said in unison. Xander laughed.

"What?" He asked.

Buffy smiled. "I'm going to bed" She told him "But you can stay and sleep on the couch if you want, as it's so late. You're probably tired, and if we have to get up early you'd have to drive so, if you want, to sleep, like I said…" Buffy trailed off.

"Great. Nothing I like better than the Summers' lumpy couch" Xander grinned. "That'd be great. Thanks"

"Ok, I'll get you some stuff"

"Thank you"

There was a moment as neither of them moved. 

"Huh" Buffy muttered quietly. Before Xander asked her to elaborate, Buffy went upstairs to try and find some pillows.


	14. Chapter 14: ‘Rayne, Rayne, go away, Come...

Chapter 14: 'Rayne, Rayne, go away, Come back Later. In fact, don't come back at all'

The first odd thing that Giles noticed was that his front door had fallen off its hinges. Well, it wasn't the first thing – it was the most telling thing. The fact all his lights were on, and the frantic cheeping off the canary could be heard four blocks away were merely preliminary indicators that pointed him in the right direction.

He approached the front doorway with caution, motioning that Anya stay behind him, and stay quiet. Picking up the metal plant stand that stood outside (it was plant-less as Anya had decided that plant free was the way to go, and Giles couldn't argue with Anya about plants, as he knew he'd probably lose), he crept cautiously through the door, wielding the metal implement as threateningly as a metal plant stand could be.

"Cheep cheep" The canary greeted Giles cheerily, and The Ex-Watcher felt a shiver of dread as he saw the bird's feed bowl was almost full. It had been nearly empty when he'd left this morning. That was eerie. Couple that with the broken door and Giles could conclude that something…weird was happening.

Anya followed Giles closely, nearly treading on his shoes, biting her lip and looking anxiously about. In fact, she was so close, she was breathing down his neck.

"Anya!" Giles whispered.

"Yes?" She replied, in an extremely loud stage whisper. Giles jumped and the plant stand quivered in his hands.

"Stop" He commanded. Anya, wearing her impossibly high pair of heels no. 37, clunked to a halt. 

"Someone's here" She said quietly.

"I think they are"

"No, they are. A man is sat on your couch"

Giles looked in the direction, and with a jolt saw that Anya was right. The back of a man's head was visible, and now that he listened properly, the sound of quiet snoring was coming from that direction.

"Stay here" Giles said firmly, before making his way to the sofa. 

He approached cautiously, gripping the plant stand tightly. A limp arm, an empty bottle of scotch ('My scotch!' Giles thought furiously), a shirted torso and the head of…

"Ethan Rayne" Giles whispered in shock. The man snored, and shifted slightly, a thin ribbon of drool trickled off the end of his chin.

"Who is it?" Anya asked from the door.

Giles bit his lip, and contemplated what he should do. He heard Anya clunking her way over, so she could have a look herself.

"Hmm. Do you know him?"

"Yes" Giles said darkly.

"He's fairly attractive"

"He's trouble"

"He's evil?"

Giles paused. "No. Ethan Rayne is just trouble, with a large T. Which leads me to wonder what the hell he's doing here, feeding my canary and drinking my scotch!"

"Perhaps he came to see you" Anya bent down and prodded the unconscious man in the arm. "Unless you don't have any friends?"

"Anya? What? Of course I have friends. Ethan just happens not to be one of them"

"Uhuh" Anya said, arching an eyebrow.

"Cheep cheep!" Sang the canary from the corner.

"And you can stop laughing" Giles snapped.

The Canary hung his head in shame.

"Don't take it out on Herbert! He's merely an innocent bystander. It's not his fault you're alone and friendless" Anya defended the bird to which she'd grown so attached. She understood him. Living in a cage…Eating bird mix. Very similar to a life of vengeance.

"Anya, I'm not friendless!" Giles sounded incredibly frustrated, and Anya grinned.

From the sofa, the drunken man grunted, more drool slipping down his chin, a spreading patch of wet over the collar of his shirt. The scotch bottle, completely empty, rolled off the sofa, onto the carpet. Giles sighed, and put the plant stand down.

"Go fetch the handcuffs"

Anya gazed at him in bewilderment, as the very sharp and fast turn the conversation had just taken caused it to spin off the road, into a mushroom farm. The Canary blushed bright red.

"The handcuffs" Giles repeated. "The ones under the sink…So we can stop Ethan from escaping and causing evil havoc" He elaborated. 

"Oh" Anya replied. She thought about mentioning that keeping handcuffs under the sink was a bad idea as then they tended to get rusty, and then you couldn't undo them when you came to use them and so you ended up attached to your bed all day until your partner got a hacksaw from his toolbox…but she decided not to. 

Giles didn't need to know that.

Anya made her way over to the sink, and indeed, there the handcuffs were, between the fairy liquid and the squeegie. The key was attached to one 'cuff with tape and Anya picked them up dubiously. Considering the guy was an ex-librarian, his cataloguing of such implements leaved much to be desired. 

"Do you have them?" Giles asked from the other room. Anya lifted them up, so they dangled from one finger and rattled them in an affirmative.

She felt Giles blink, and then "Ok. Good. Bring them over here"

Shutting the cupboard door, Anya returned to the sofa. The drunken man, Ethan, was still unconscious, and no longer so attractive. He was just incredibly boring.

"Here" Anya said, and handed Giles the handcuffs. She watched as the British man fastened the other man's ankles together.

"Aren't you going to wake him up?" She asked.

"Yes, in a moment"

"Good. He's started to dribble all over your couch"

"Bugger, so he is"

Giles stood back up, having put the handcuffs firmly in place, and picked up the plant stand.

"Ethan!" He shouted, deciding there was no time like the present. "Ethan, wake up" Giles waved the plant stand a little. "Bloody hell man, your inebriated slobber is getting everywhere. Ethan!"

Anya rolled her eyes. "Give it to me" She demanded, holding her hand out for the plant stand. Doubtfully, Giles handed it over.

"Mr. Ethan, wake up now!" Anya shouted, flipping the plant stand over and prodding Ethan in the chest with the three-legged base. "Come on, wake up"

"Anya, if you're not going to use that thing sensibly…" Giles began.

Ethan grunted, and his eye-lids fluttered open. He looked incoherently about for a second and then that wide, chesire-cat grin spread across his face.

"Ripper" He drawled, more from drunken inebriation than suavity.  

"You were saying?" Anya said smugly. Giles bowed his head in admittance, then balled his hand into a fist and slammed it into the side of Ethan's face.

"That was for making me a demon!" He snapped. Mr 'Farm Fresh Chicken' rubbed his cheek slowly, and looked as stunned as he could when he couldn't feel his face.

"Wait – this is the guy?" Anya asked, excitement creeping into her voice. "Is he gonna turn you back?"

"You're not meant to sound impressed, Anya"

"I'm not. Why would I be impressed? I've made people much worse things than demons…I've made them fat. And French"

Giles raised his eyebrows.

"And if I was feeling really evil, I made them fat and French – at the _same_ time!"

From his slumped position on the sofa, Ethan chuckled.

"And I never knew you liked them so talkative" 

Anya stopped, then gazed fondly at Giles.

"Is he implying that I'm your…?"

Ethan chuckled again, and Anya tightened her grip around the stand, realizing it was an insult.

"Can I prod him again?" She asked Giles. Giles took a breath and declined response.

"Don't forget who's got the plant-stand Mister!" Anya yelled, glaring at Ethan with all the fury a 21year old ex-demon, who once stood up for scorned women and looked vainy whilst she did it, could muster. Which was quite a lot. A couple of sharp prods aided her efforts.

"Alright, alright!" Ethan complained, shuffling around. "God. I take it back. I take it back" He looked at Giles "Are your women always this stroppy?"

Giles decided not to comment on that, and instead nursed his newly bruised knuckles. 

"Why are you here Ethan?" He demanded. Ethan smiled his smarmy smile, and one hand lolled aimlessly through the air.

"What can I say, I like the sun"

"That's not a good answer" Giles commented idly, pacing a little. "And if you don't answer properly she'll prod you again"

Anya wielded the plant-stand a little tighter.

Ethan sighed, and sat up a little straighter, noticing his feet were handcuffed together.

"The end of the world is coming. And if it doesn't get stopped, I lose a bet" 

The plant stand jabbed sharply into his ribs.

"Ow!" He exclaimed. "I'm telling the truth!"

"He probably is, Anya" Giles admitted. Anya paused, mid-jab. 

"I know!" She said. She prodded him again.

"OW!" Ethan yelled. His semi-glazed eyes wandered over to look somewhere in her vicinity, glaring as much as they could. "Why are you still prodding me?"

"Because you put a bet on the end of the _world_!" Anya said, as if he'd asked something incredibly stupid. "What are you? An idiot?"

Giles coughed, and bit back a smile. 

"Hey!" Ethan said indignantly. "I know Ripper and his little buxom Slayer – They'll stop anything from going down" He glanced at Giles "They're a wonderful constant in this world. So I thought I'd make a little money from this upcoming apocalypse"

"That is _not _a safe way of making money. Apocalypses are tricky things"

Ethan sneered at her "Why? Do you have personal experience?"

Anya looked at him as if he was missing a head. "I've _caused_ four. Well…almost caused"

His blank stare was infuriating.

"I was - am evil, ok? Little Ex Ex-Demon standing right here!" Anya explained. Ethan chuckled.

"Talkitive and evil, Rupert. That's very impressive"

"Shut up" Giles snapped. "Remember I'm not the one in the handcuffs"

"Not at the moment" Came the muttered comment.

Giles paced back the way he'd come, so he was stood in front of the couch. 

"So you're here, why? To check up on us?"

"What can I say – you're so bloody perceptive" 

"Hmm" Giles paused, and then punched Ethan again.

"Ow" Shrieked the recivee

"Bugger!" Giles hissed, shaking his now very bruised hand in pain. He'd forgotten how painful punching people was – it never looked that hard on TV.

"How did you get out Ethan?" He snapped, "You were living the life of luxury in the Nevada desert, last I heard"

Ethan rubbed at his chin. "Met a man. And a demon. People are so easily bribed these days" His eyes glinted and Giles sighed.

"Great. And now, for that, I have to put up with you sitting on my sofa"

"You could just let me go. I did come to see you, remember – I'm not a threat"

"You're always a threat" Giles tapped his foot and realized that he was going to have to get his front door fixed at some point. Maybe Xander could do it.

"What can I say? I'm redeemed. Squeakier than a nun's shoes" Ethan continued. He grinned, smarmily. Giles began to wish he'd left him unconscious. 

"But you used to be evil?" Anya asked seriously, sitting on the arm of the couch, and putting the plant stand down by her side. A wistful look appeared on her face as Ethan nodded.

"I used to be evil. Well, I _am_ evil" She told him, sadly. Ethan nodded his head, understandingly. "But since I got into it again recently, I just can't, y'know, get in to it. Maiming, torture, making people listen to Celine Dion constantly for the rest of their lives…where once it was so much fun –now it just tastes…"

"Bitter?" Ethan offered.

"Flat"

"I see" Ethan nodded sympathetically. "I know exactly what you mean – I'm in _exactly_ the same position" A quick glance at Giles to check his response caused the Ex-Librarian to roll his eyes.

"Ethan, you're evil, crazy and you place _bets _on apocalypses. If that doesn't make you twisted and sick, I don't know what does"

Ethan held out his arms. "But I'm redeemed" His voice contained a touch of mockery. "And once you and Buffy have stopped the apocalypse, I'll be on my merry rich way"

Anya gazed at him, head on one side. 

Giles suddenly felt very tired.

"God, I could do with a drink right now" He muttered. His eyes rested on the empty bottle of scotch "but oh, look. You drank it. Just another reason for me to lock you in my cupboard and throw away the key"

Ethan raised his eyebrows. "I'm surprised you'd be willing to drink in my company Ripper"

"Well you weren't tied up last time"

Anya frowned.

And Herbert starting cheeping.


	15. Chapter 15: 'Dramatics'

Chapter 15: 'Dramatics'

ROY (a cleverly disguised acronym to cleverly disguise his true identity) was having a bad night. The 'Late Night Computer Operative' stared in absolute horror at his computer screen, and he couldn't believe what happening. His brain wouldn't grasp what his eyes were seeing, the rapidly cycling numbers and percentage symbols were just blurs that meant nothing to his highly evolved brain.

ROY's mouth hung open, in a state of paralytic shock. Around him, his fellow operatives at the center were in exactly the same state as him.

"Nnnnnoo" ROY stammered. "This can't be happening"

"This can't be happening" Another employee cried, mirroring his tone exactly.

"This really can't be happening!" Piped another.

But it was, and it was, and it was terrifying. It was ROY's worst nightmare. He shut his eyes, he panted, he sang nursery rhymes to himself, anything to make it not true.

He failed. It was true, and remained so.

Taxes had been raised by 75%.

The only logical reason ROY the Late Night Computer Operative could come to was that the world _had_ to be ending. His world was ending and going up in clouds that resembled spaghetti. 

He couldn't take any more. This was just…He wasn't employed because of his ability to cope with things like this, he was employed because he had a stroke rate of seventy-five words a minute.

This wasn't fair.

He didn't deserve this.

ROY opened his mouth to scream…


	16. Chapter 16: My Plan to Your Plan

Chapter 16:  My Plan to Your Plan.

"Buffy. Buffy, wake up!" Xander's frantic whispers pierced the wonderful fog of sleep and the Slayer half opened her eyes. "You have to wake up"

"I'm not in charge of these things" She murmured.

"No, no, Buff – you've got to wake up!"

Sighing, the Slayer opened her eyes properly. Her room was still dark which meant…

"What time is it?" She groaned.

"Four-thirty" He paused.

"I'm hoping you're going to add 'in the afternoon' to that sentence"

Xander's worried gaze told her otherwise, and Buffy sat up.

"What is it?"

"Demons. Orbs. Taxes"

"I'll get dressed"

 * * * * * * * 

"America is in shock at the drastic and extortionate rise in taxes which occurred earlier this morning. The President says he "has no idea how it happened and that perhaps the mainframe computers got a slug in their system". Financers say that the President's lack of motivation to restore tax levels to what they previously were could have dire consequences on the world's economy.

In other news, two secret commandos have gone missing in Sunnydale woods. Their chinnook is also unaccounted for…."

Xander muted the TV off, a despondant look on his face. 

"This isn't good" He said softly. His hair was ruffled from lying on the sofa, and it stuck up at one side, in a way that was partly cute, partly annoying. He was wearing the clothes he had worn all day; though Buffy suspected he'd taken his shirt off to sleep - the buttons were done up all wonky.

"The Slugs?"

He grinned wryly. "Them too. I should probably phone Giles"

Buffy stretched her arms above her head. "I wish demons would keep sociable hours" She paused. "Is Dawnie awake"

Stood, phone in hand, Xander shook his head. "I didn't want to wake any one"

"Except me"

Xander just raised an eyebrow and grinned. Then someone obviously picked up the phone at the other end, for Xander turned away and started speaking.

Buffy ran her fingers distractedly through her hair. More apocalypses, more demons, more terror…and, oh my god, was that her roots showing?

Buffy mentally kicked herself. She was not that shallow. She was not turning into Cordelia.

"Ok, bye" Xander put the phone down. "They'll be right over. Apparently Ethan's turned up…"

"Ethan Rayne?" Buffy's eyes widened. "What's he doing here?"

"Apparently ensuring we don't lose"

"That's kind of him"

"That's what I said. Though Anya is keeping him at bay with a plant-stand"

Buffy raised her eyebrows. 

Giles turned up ten minutes later, Anya leading a handcuffed Ethan behind them. Buffy instructed that he be fastened to the cellar door, ignoring the wink-wink that he gave her, and restraining herself from kicking him in the shins.

The meeting was quick and to the point. They needed to find the MoW demons, get the orb and sing to it. As quickly as possible.  Things were going bad. Taxes had shot up. Soon the dead would be rising from their graves and time would be going wonky. Soon. Assuming of course, that time stayed chronological and was, in essence, timely. Otherwise, it could've happened yesterday, and then where would they be.

"But where do we start?" Xander asked. 

"I don't know" 

Giles paced across the room, Anya gnawed her lip thoughtfully, Buffy got up, paced with Giles, then kicked Ethan in the shins (after he made a comment about her ass. Or lack of one. Or something.) and eventually turned to the others, completely frustrated.

"We have no idea where they are!" She exclaimed. "They could be in some far distant place by now. Calcutta. Poland… Texas."

"Yeah, doing their magical orb dance" Xander added. Then he stood up. "She's right Giles.  We have no idea where they'll be"

"They're flying a helicopter"

"Anya, we're trying to be serious"

"So am I" The ex-ex (ex?) vengeance demon replied. "Look at the TV"

The other three turned, to see on their screens a badly filmed shot of a Chinnook, wobbling its way across the sky. The cameramen zoomed in, and, for a moment a glimpse of some shaggy distinctly inhuman heads were visible. Then the camera wobbled some more, and, in its own excitement, turned itself off. Xander hastily turned the volume up, whilst the other three looked at each other.

"…was spotted after reportedly landing in SunnyDale woods. The pilots are not thought to be the original pilots, but hijackers, possibly from Russia. It is thought that the Army Helicopter was working on an observatory mission, though details have yet to be released, and that the hijackers, once they had hijacked the vehiclce, are now, literally 'joy-riding'. The last sighting was of a clumsy landing in the Northern woods. Police are closing in on the vehicle, though they cannot be sure of its exact location. If you have any information please contact Sunnydale police on …"

Xander turned the volume back down as the woman finished speaking.

"Sunnydale woods" He commented.

"Yup. Where the trees live" Buffy moved over to the weapons chest. "We should go slay"

"What happened to the necessity of lovely singing?" Anya questioned. Buffy handed her a sword.

"This is the back-up plan"

"Sunnydale woods…" Xander repeated. Giles grabbed a weapon, weighting it in the palms of his hands. Buffy swung a crossbow onto her shoulder, grabbed an axe and shoved a couple of stakes in her pocket. Ethan muttered a comment about how he'd love to slide down there, which earned him a glower and another bruised shin.

Giles carefully checked the handcuffs were still locked, then kicked a stool towards the guy's ass. 

"Sit there. Don't move. And don't try to run away"

"Ripper…" He drawled smoothly "Would I?"

Giles gave him a look.

"If you so dare as _look_ at my sister, I will kill you" Buffy added, whispering it close in his ear. The bolt in the crossbow loomed dangerously close to Ethan's eye, and he half-squinted and pulled back.

"I've got it" 

"He's secure Buffy. Plus, he knows that if you don't kill him, I will"

"I'll leave Dawn a note. She's gonna hate me"

"Sunnydale woods" Xander muttered to himself.

"Can we go slay these demons yet?" Anya said. She twirled the sword in her hands. "I'm feeling anxious and unnerved, and I dread to think of the tax I'm paying as a self-employed Magic box owner"

Cue raised eyebrow, questioning glance

"…partner" She amended.

Buffy nodded. "Let's go"

The Slayer placed the other sword into Xander's hands.

"Sunnydale woods…" He said again.

"You ok?" She asked.

He shrugged. "Least it's not the old factory, that's something right?"

"Yeah"

"I hate that place"

"You've said"

"The old factory?" Anya chimed in. "Oh, the acoustics in there would be so much better…"

Giles coughed pointedly. Ethan snickered.

"Apocalypse?"

"Right" They affirmed.

Buffy led the way.


	17. Chapter 17: Boom Boom Boom Shake KaBoom

Chapter 17: Boom. Shake. Shake. Shake. KaBoom.

To be honest, Xander wasn't ok. It wasn't the fact that they were facing yet another apocalypse, that he might die a horrible bloody death, or even worse, spend the rest of his life paying extortionate taxes. It wasn't that at all. It was just…it seemed too easy. Go to the woods, kill the demons, sing a little. Where was the sweat, the blood, the tears? Where was the mad panic, the running out of time, the traumatic love or life decision? The sending of your boyfriend to hell (perhaps it was better he skipped that)

This just didn't feel right.

Plus the woods…the last time he'd been there had been when they'd resurrected Buffy, and Willow had gone all scary, and the bikers had turned up, and he'd still been with Anya -

Yeah, that had all turned out so well…

To say he was a little anxious would have been a slight underestimate. But still, like the believer he was, he had faith in Buffy (no pun intended, well, perhaps, but only on rainy afternoons) and he would follow her, do the job he was asked to do, and hopefully keep all his limbs in the process.

But still, something wasn't right…Not right at all.

The four of them marched down the street, weapons slung over shoulders, or carried in hand, purposeful and focused. They walked in silence for the most part, the early morning resting peacefully about their shoulders, the cold, fresh air kissing their skin and dancing round their faces. The windows in the surrounding houses looked at them sleepily, the neatly mown front lawns dressed in dew, and it all seemed so tranquil - it was hard to believe the stock market had been thrown into chaos, and that the world could end any minute.

Well, that's what Xander reasoned. He knew the orb could raise the dead, or reverse the dead (Giles had said the translation had been tricky), and play with time (though, fortunately, that took longer to do. The Orb worked like a battery, except it had to be charged up first) but…he was struggling to find a purpose in all of this. To be honest, Xander didn't know why he was so bothered. It should be sing, kill, and happily ever after – a demon's a demon and all that jazz.

"Anya?" He said, walking a little faster to catch up with her. Anya turned to look at him, a slight frown on her face.

"What? I'm trying to select a song we can all sing to the orb that will be a breakaway pop hit, preferably with harmonizing and backing vocals"

"Sweetie…"

"Don't call me that Harris"

"Sorry" Xander bit his tongue, and took a breath before trying again. "Anya…what do you think these demons want?"

"Want? Well that's obvious"

"It is?"

"Clearly, these demons are using the orbs to procure and secure their supply of - "

Suddenly there was a massive bang, that seared across the sky, engulfing it whole like the mouth of a whale. Clouds rolled across the sky, darkening the new dawn, spilling across like ink on paper, and Xander grabbed Anya's hand, pulling her to the ground, as the ground suddenly started to shake. In front of them, Buffy and Giles dropped down too, gripping the sidewalk with their hands, searching for a cover that didn't exist.

"Earthquake?" Xander yelled. The roaring in the sky grew louder, the daylight that had been growing steadily as they walked was sucked out the air, leaving only a grey darkness that cast no shadow.

Over the roar, Xander heard a wind-tossed 'No' and realized he'd known this anyway.

"We need to get somewhere safe" Buffy hollered. 

Xander nodded his agreement. Then he felt something pounding against his chest. Looking down, he realized it was Anya, who he'd fallen on top of when pulling her to the ground.

"Get off me Harris!" She complained. Even though Xander was concentrating on what he'd do if the ground opened up, or on the chaos that was about to rain down on his head, he obliged. Anya scrambled to her hands and knees, sword gripped tightly in one hand. 

"We need to get underground" Giles shouted to Buffy. The din was growing louder, so much so that it was hard to concentrate, hard to think, hard to understand what was actually going on. Xander shut his eyes, trying to focus on his hearing. Lose one sense, improve the others by a hundred percent. Instead, he forgot what he was trying to do, it was as if the noise was taking over his whole body…

With an effort, he reopened his eyes.

"- too far from here" He caught the end of Giles' sentence, and wondered how much he'd missed. He scrambled forward, so he was closer. Then the ground stopped shaking.

The roar continued, the sky now a whirling pool of black and grey, but least they could stand.

"We need to get to the woods" Buffy yelled, hands held over her ears. She yelled something else, but Xander couldn't hear it, so he just nodded and smiled. Then she grabbed his hand.

"Come on!" 

Anya held out her hand for holding, which Giles obligingly grasped, and they set off running, stumbling along in the grey dark.

Buffy's hand gripped his tightly, almost too tightly, but Xander was too busy running and wondering what the hell was happening, to really care. He wanted this to stop, and, briefly, realized all his fears had been founded in some really solid, realistic and truthful foundations. 

He hated being right.

Well, apart from where Angel was concerned.

But even then, he hated it.

Kinda.


	18. Chapter 18: Knock Three Times

Chapter 18: "Knock three times"

Willow knocked politely on the shiny red door, looking warily around her. The busy London street was still moving – the time-freeze, or whatever it was, hadn't spread this far yet.

Behind her, Spike paced nonchalantly from side to side, hands deep in anorak pockets. He analysed the iron railings which surrounded the front of the building, as if they were something fascinating, but really, Willow knew, he was just trying to be casual to hide his anxiety. Not about the world freezing in time, but about Buffy.

A really nasty thought popped into her head, and she batted it away. Now was not the time to be sarcastic and malicious, especially when you skinned guys in trees, and brought your best friend back from heaven. Cos that would be hypocritical.

Sighing, Willow tried the knocker again. She was assuming this was the correct address. She'd debated doing a Locator spell, but realized that, with them being the Watcher's Council, they'd probably have a shielding spell in place. Plus, if she was connected to everything, delving into magic might mean she would be contaminated by whatever was causing the freezing. So instead, herself and Spike had questioned the people of London, asking if there was a building to which many tweed-wearing individuals visited. Turns out that there was, and this was it, and, surprisingly, none of the locals thought the questions a tiny bit strange. Tourists, Willow supposed, had probably asked a lot crazier questions than that.

Still, it would help if someone answered the door. She was just about to look through the letterbox, when the blind twitched in the window to her left. Then suddenly the door was being unbolted, and opening before her, to reveal a smart, severe looking woman, clutching a paper file in her hand and a mobile in the other.

"Yes?" She snapped, her voice more clipped than if someone had had a bad accident with a pair of garden shears whilst cutting their toenails. Willow smiled nervously, and she heard Spike come and stand behind her.

"Erm…I was wondering if you could help us" The witch began tentatively. "I'm erm…I'm aware of the..the ev.."

Willow stopped when she realized the woman wasn't listening, and was instead staring enraptured over her shoulder. At Spike.

Of course, she realized, it was always about Spike.

"William the Bloody?" The woman inquired, a tremor of excitement in her voice. Spike took a drag on his cigarette, looked her up and down and replied, casually

"Who wants to know?"

"My name is Dr. Roberta Scone"

She glanced briefly at Willow, then back at Spike. "May I ask what you're doing at the London branch of the Watcher's Council?"

Willow gave a small smile.

"We're once evil do-gooders. And the streets are freezing in time"

Dr Scone gave her a dubious look.

"I tried to end the world last year…" Willow offered.

"Yeah – and I've eaten loadsa people. We know about this stuff" Spike added. He moved into the best cheekbone-highlighting light he could find in the dark, before smirking (sexily) at the Doctor. Willow physically saw her legs turn to jelly.

"Well, you…you better come in then" The Doctor could barely stand she was swooning so much.

The two moved into the building.

"We, we need to speak to Quentin Travers, or, or someone in charge" Willow told Dr Scone as they marched through the carpeted corridors. Suited British types walked past, staring curiously. "It's urgent. You, you are aware that London is slowly freezing in time?"

"Quentin Travers is currently holidaying in Bournemouth"

"Oh" Willow frowned. "Well, can we speak to the second in command?"

"Uhuh" Dr Scone was fixated on Spike who was trying to swagger seductively in his anorak. Willow shook her head. He should be grateful he wasn't wearing a Tesco's uniform. 

"You do know about the freezing, don't you?"

Dr Scone gave her a glance. "We are aware, yes"

"Well – are you trying to stop it?"

The Doctor blinked. Then she indicated to an oak door. "Mr Rok-Cayke will provide any service you require"

Her gaze turned to Spike, and her voice dropped an octave. "Well, almost…" Her tongue twitched across her lips, and she gave a half lidded blink.

Then she turned smartly on her heel, and walked back down the corridor, hips swinging. Spike smirked, until he was pushed forcefully towards the door.

"We are not here to ogle" Willow told him. "We're here to help stop the freezing"

Spike rolled his eyes. 

"You think the Watcher's Council are going to help us?" He muttered. Willow paused.

"Yes" 

Spike sighed. "Red, you've killed a man, and got so magicked up you had to buy a new wardrobe, and yet you're still so bloody naive!" 

"I am not naïve"

"You are"

"I'm not"

Spike gave her a look, then smartened his anorak. There was no point arguing with her.

With a self-collecting nod, Willow turned, knocked on the door, and opened it.

"Welcome to the Watcher's Council" Spoke a disembodied voice. The room gaped, vast and looming in front of them, dark panels, dark candles and flickering shadows over Georgian furniture. 

"You are now under our control, and will be assimilated. Resistance is Futile. You will be assimilated"

And then the door slammed shut behind them.


	19. Chapter 19: We Are Bored

Chapter 19: We. Are. Bored.

Warning. Unrealised and never followed up Plot Contrivence for the purpose of a cliffhanger has been detected. Warp Core Breach imminent. Suggest immediate cranial shutdown. Warning.

"And don't say I didn't warn you" – Joss 'What you neeeeeeed' Whedon.

Well. That was…amusing. It turns out that the Watcher's Council's second-in-command actually owned a sense of humour. Of a kind. And he was an ex-geek, which helped (though he was of the 'very British' variety which meant he wore a pinstripe suit and carried a briefcase and it was only his Blake's Seven lunchbox that gave him away).

Willow sat opposite this tall, graying man, who was seated casually behind a desk. He wore a beret, at a slight askew on his head, the hat not really complementing the aforementioned pin-striped suit. His hands rested, fingers interlaced in his lap, and a cigarette burned slowly in a gilded ashtray. He had chuckled immensely when herself and Spike had first arrived, explaining it was a fun joke he liked to play on unsuspecting strangers. Then he had invited them in, offered them drinks and seat, and proceeded to question them in great detail about their lives.

To her surprise, Willow had found herself retelling the events of last year, giving more explanation to her actions that she had to anyone, even to Joss, and definitely more than she'd given to the audience. Poor, mistreated souls. Little did they know…

Mr Rok-Cayke had listened intensely, smoking and sipping brandy from a crystal glass, and occasionally questioning something in great detail. Now, twenty minutes later, his thin lips, beneath his moustache, stretched themselves into a smile, and, as if he had all the time in the world, he slowly leaned forward.

"And you really did all that in the name of love?" The cigarette was plucked from the ashtray, and he dragged daintily on the end. Willow gulped.

"Yeah. I mean, I regret it so much now, but… at the time…"

He smiled that thin smile again, and returned the cigarette to its original location.

"No regrets, Miss Rosenburg. The Watcher's Council do not believe in regrets, merely economic opportunity, fine wines and complete superiority over lesser beings. Those" He emphasized "are the rules by which we all should live"

"No wonder the Council are meglomanic bastards" Spike muttered. He was stood, sulkily, in one corner of the large room, between a bookshelf and a cupboard, which, he suspected, held vast quantities of holy water, crosses and scotch. Above him, a clock ticked, displaying the time at 9.30pm.

He supposed he was lucky Tescos did late-night opening, otherwise he'd never get his weekly groceries. The one thing England lacked was 24hour drugstores. Though that did mean no 24hour drugstore robberies. Probably a plus.

So Tescos it was. And yet, look how that had turned out. Now here he was, sat in the Watcher's _Council_, a place he should never ever ever _ever_ have to be, helping Willow the Witch to stop some evil time stopping thing from doing it's evil time stopping. Why?!

He was a vampire, he was an evil blood sucking fiend, who made people's necks his chalice, and wore their shoes only when they matched his outfit. He shouldn't be helping people, being nice, doing good…

His soul/pager device went off in his pocket, and Spike shifted uncomfortably. Well, he supposed, it couldn't hurt. He'd help out, just this once. For Buffy.

His demon-self groaned in frustration, before curling up in resignation in one darkened corner with only radio 4 for company. He may as well move out, for all the bad he got to do. 

From behind his desk, Mr Rok-Cayke gave a small chuckle and rose to his feet, rubbing his softly skinned hands together. 

"Miss Rosenburg, you are utterly delightful. Really, your presence is a pleasure"

Willow shifted uncomfortably.

"I just want to help. And Giles always said that the Council had the best resources…"

"Ah, yes of course. Mr Rupert Giles. How is he?"

"He's fine" Willow felt herself grow defensive. Mr Rok-Cayke saw and waved a placating hand in her direction.

"I have no interest in Mr Giles. Seems to me that there's a contaminant in the air when it comes to Sunnydale and Watchers. Once they go there, they are no longer our concern" He chuckled softly. "Which is a pity" He failed to elaborate.

Willow watched as he wandered over to one of three large windows which looked out over a quiet street and parkland. He lit another cigarette and let it perch on his bottom lip. There was a pause of expectant silence, before he began, rather abruptly:

"The Council is aware of the events occurring in London" His really rather British accent drifted softly across the room. "Unfortunately, they are merely side-effects caused by severe altercations around the world" He took a drag on his cigarette, and then pursed his lips. "A species known as the MoW, file number 282820, are currently involved in a worldwide scheme. We have been aware of their intentions for quite some time, yet they initiated the plan before our preparations were completed"

Spike snorted. Mr Rok-Cayke didn't even glance in his direction. The London landscape was evidently more fascinating.

"Sometime this week, the MoW demons procured The Orb to Rule all Orbs, the Orb of Apoc, and are now taking steps to achieve their ultimate goal"

Willow stared at him in alarm.

"I'm afraid to say, however, that the Council is unable to take any action against the events occurring in London. Not legally, anyway. Outside our jurisdiction, due to it being a chain event" He gave a wry smile. 

"So…so you're saying you're just gonna wait until time stops around you?" Willow couldn't believe it. "No wonder Giles wanted to leave"

"To be fair, Miss Rosenburg, he was sacked"

"With retro-active pay" She sounded proud.

This caused the second in command Watcher to turn away from the window. That small smile was back in place, as was the cigarette.

"I do admire your tenacity Miss Rosenburg. To actually gain entry to the London Branch of the Watcher's Council is quite a feat in itself, and to be accompanied by William the Bloody shows great…" He searched for a word " 'strength' in character"

Spike shot him a dirty look.

"Miss Rosenburg, what I'm trying to say is…The Council are unable to help you. Indeed, they do not wish to help you. Helping mere mortals (particularly Americans) is not something the Council does. We're British. We read stuffy books and wear tweed, and live the life of the stereotype. Our stiff upper lips are not merely for show, you know"

Willow failed to be impressed, and he sighed.

"But that does not mean you cannot help yourself" He added, flicking ash into his gilded ashtray "You're an intelligent girl, not to mention a powerful witch. I'm sure you understand what I mean"

He left the offer there.

Willow looked perplexed, and glanced at Spike, who shrugged. The cigarette was extinguished quite violently, and Mr Rok-Cayke reseated himself at his desk.

"What do these demons want?" 

He chuckled and shook his head.

"That's not how it works, Miss Rosenburg. Besides, it is hardly important. You need to concentrate on the dilemma afflicting London. Others will deal with the central crisis"

"Others?"

"Yes. A group of twenty-somethings, and an ex-librarian, I believe"

"Buffy??" Willow was incredulous.

"Is that her name?" His tone was mocking, and it irritated.

"The Orb is in Sunnydale?!"

"Buffy?" Spike was suddenly alert and listening. "Is Buffy in danger?"

Willow ignored him.

"Are they ok? I mean, are they going to win?"

Mr Rok-Cayke raised an eyebrow slightly.

"Preliminary reports are sketchy" He paused. "But I wouldn't bet on it"


	20. Chapter 20: If My Reputation Rings, I'm ...

Chapter 20: If My Reputation Rings, I'm Out

Ethan had the hangover from hell. Being strung up by his wrists, handcuffs burying themselves into his skin like a small mammal, didn't help either. 

His tongue flopped around his mouth like a little bristly creature, flagging, dragging itself from side to side, searching for water.

To make matters worse, someone had left the tap dripping.

When the 'earthquake' (for lack of a more accurate term) had arrived, he'd been dozing happily on his stool, leaning against the basement door. He'd been dozing so happily that it had taken him several seconds to realize what was going on, and by then he'd fallen off his stool, cracking his head on the door handle.

Not the best start to the morning.

Then the little one, Dawn, had started screaming, and rushed around upstairs, before darting downstairs, yelling for Buffy and Xander. She'd frozen in shock when she'd seen him attached to her basement door, bouncing around like a chicken on a string, and she'd then fallen over as another tremor rolled its way through the house and surrounding area. Outside, it had been eerie to watch the incoming dawn be replaced by a liquid darkness.

Still, now he had his own, personal Dawn in the living room, and she was just as attractive. Except for the fact she was as angry as something very very angry, due to the note she had just found on the Kitchen work top.

But he had nothing to do with that. He was just a run of the mill hostage.

"Dawny" He called, his voice hoarse. His head turned itself into a bongo drum and made merry music, much to his sufferance. "Dawn?" He amended, when he realized he wasn't going to get a response using pet names. 

She appeared in doorway, arms folded across her chest. She was dressed in a shirt and jeans, and, by the cross-bow that was slung over her shoulder, wasn't obviously planning on a nice, quiet Apocalypse at home in front of the telly.

"Dawn" He said again, forcing his aching jaws into a glittering smile. He rattled his handcuffs against the handle. "I don't suppose you feel like setting me free do you?"

"No" Her reply was certainly blunt and to the point (no contradiction intended). Her eyes scoured across the room, glancing over him and the stool that had fallen over, before surveying the damage caused by the earthquake. A few things had fallen off the shelves, the kitchen window had somehow got a huge crack in it, but that was no problem, they had Xander for that.

Dawn turned back to the man strung up on her basement door. He batted his eyelashes hopefully.

"Where have they gone?" she demanded, an edge to her voice. 

Ethan shrugged. "I have no idea whatsoever"

"What's going on?"

Another shrug.

"Tell me!" Dawn swung the crossbow from her shoulder, aimed the weapon towards him.

Ethan flinched, and eyed the bolt that seemed to be yearning for his jugular.

"Your buxom sister and her friends have gone off to prevent the apocalypse" He eventually told her, quite jauntily. "I'm sure they'll be back in time for tea"

That earned him a glower.

"Where have they gone?"

"If I knew that, I'd be running in the opposite direction"

Dawn stalked the kitchen.

"I know that you're Ethan Rayne. I remember Halloween. I remember when you turned Giles into a demon. I know you're evil"

"Good to know my reputation prevails"

"It also means I'm not stupid enough to set you free"

His face fell. 

"So _where_ have they gone?"

Ethan raised an eyebrow. "To Sunnydale woods" He said, grudgingly. "But if anyone asks, I didn't tell you that"

Dawn wasn't listening. She swung the crossbow over her shoulder, before going to the window and peering outside. Everything was so grey, everything was swirling, it was as if the world had been dipped in a can of emulsion, and then left to dry.

It gave her the heebie-jeebies. But she couldn't just sit here, waiting to see if the world would continue to exist or not. If Buffy couldn't destroy the orb, if the hellmouth started to open…she might need Dawn's help.

Perhaps her dancing could distract the demons. She was very good at dancing, given the size of her feet.

"Don't try and run away" Dawn told Ethan, turning away from the window. 

"Wouldn't dream of it" He told her. "Are you going somewhere?"

Dawn ignored the note of innocence in his voice.

"I'll be back when we've stopped the apocalypse"

"That's a mighty big claim. But make sure you do. I've got a bet on it"

Dawn rolled her eyes, and left the house.

The streets were eerily quiet. Yes, it was now 5.15 in the morning, and that thought had occurred to Dawn, but the grey-ness and the cold just didn't sit right.

She tugged the crossbow further up her shoulder and glanced around.

She wondered, quite cheerfully, what it would be like if the hellmouth opened, just now, right now, whilst she was walking down the sidewalk. Just bang, kaboom: hellmouth open and hungry, ready to gobble. Would she even know? Would it really be that horrible?

How would it feel to die?

Dawn stopped the train of morbid thoughts in their tracks, causing a minor derailment. She needed to think positive, to think happy thoughts. (Though those thoughts, however macabre, had been thought of in a jolly tone of….thought). She needed to find Buffy.

Increasing her pace, Dawn hurried across the street, making her way past the houses that led to the outskirts of Sunnydale.

Considering there had been an earthquake (or whatever), the level of destruction wasn't that bad. The houses had done their intended wobbling, and a couple of cracks had appeared in the tarmac and the sidewalk, but apart from that, you could barely tell that anything was wrong. Except for the fact that everything was grey and there was a roar so loud it hurt to think.

The noise had hit Dawn as soon as she'd opened her door. Had Ethan not been behind her, sneering, she may have turned back and run and hid under her bed (orb-stealing graffiti demons or not). It was just so loud and…and it hurt!

And then it stopped. Just like that. Dawn glanced around, scanning the street, as if checking to see people celebrating, to ensure she hadn't just gone deaf. Of course there was no one there, except the odd, stray pigeon (did pigeons normally visit California? She couldn't remember), that looked at her and did a little dance, so she assumed the noise had stopped.

Dawn increased her speed, her footsteps now audible on the stone. A cold wind blew from behind her, chilling the back of her neck. She had to get to Buffy as quickly as possible. She had to get to the woods and find them and then help.

The strangled cry of the pigeon stopped her in her tracks.

Dawn froze, breath rapid, ears straining to hear something. Something wasn't right. That wind was too cold, too consistent. It was like a fan of air, a never-ending wave pouring onto her skin. A wave of grey.

Then she heard the moan.

Slowly, very very slowly, Dawn turned around, trembling, breath caught in the back of her throat. And then she blinked. And blinked again.

"We were wondering if you could help us?"

The two Army officers, stood arm in arm, smiled and nodded. Dawn's eyes grew wide.

"I'm, uh, kinda busy"

"You are?"

"Yeah"

"She's busy"

"So I heard"

"That's not very good is it? This is an emergency"

"An emergency?" Dawn wasn't sure if she could cope with that.

"A very urgent emergency. The fate of the world may depend on it"

Dawn perked up her ears. "The world?"

"Yes. Can you help us, please?"

"Go on, please. It won't take too long. And it'd be very helpful"

Dawn swallowed. "Ok. Y-y-yeah. Sure"

And she would, she would, she'd really try. 

As much as you could help anyone who was obviously dead.

"Great!"

Officer Tomlinson smiled through what remained of his face at his senior partner, Lieutenant Kash, who was stood, quite awkwardly, on what was left of his left leg.

"What would you like me to do?"

"We need you to find our helicopter"

Dawn couldn't help but feel confused.


	21. Chapter 21: 'Hey Birdy'

Chapter 21:

"It's started" Giles' murmur caught Buffy by surprise, and she looked up at him, as the four marched intently down a small side street.

"What's started?"

Now it was Giles' turned to look startled.

"Oh, I'm sorry…I didn't realize I was speaking aloud" He continued walking in silence, much to Buffy's concern. Still gripping Xander's hand like a vice, she caught up with the pensive watcher, standing in front of him, forcing him to halt.

"What's started?" She repeated. "Is it something to do with the Orb? With the apocalypse?" Giles sighed, and then paused, turning slightly to nudge something in the gutter with his foot.

"The reversal"

"Ah yeah, that" Xander commented. As much as he loved being in physical contact with his other favourite slayer, he had lost feeling in all the fingers of his left hand. Perhaps if he wiggled it a little…Argh! No. That wasn't going to work. Reflex action. 

He glanced sideways at Buffy, who was looking at Giles worriedly. 

All he wanted was his hand back, and them all to save the world. That wasn't much to ask. Was it?

Anya peered over to see what Giles was prodding. A small bird lay against the edge of the sidewalk, it's eyes wide open and un-seeing

 "Oh no!" Buffy knelt down to look at it. "It was only little"

"And now it's little and dead" Anya observed.

It twitched.

"Or not?"

"Or not" Buffy agreed grimly.

The little once-dead now half-alive bird wiggled its little feet, and its head twitched. Its eyes changed from un-seeing to just having a kinda glazed look about them, and, flexing its wings, it limbered up to its feet.

"Is this the reversal?" Xander asked. The bird wobbled around in the gutter, before leaning casually against the sidewalk for a rest.

"It would appear so"

"And it happens to…to everything that's dead?"

"Eventually, yes"

Xander watched the bird that had just a minute ago been dead and rotting. Now it was alive and, well…still rotting.

"Ew" He said emphatically.

"Giles…We have to stop this" That was Buffy. "We're running out of time, and I am not going to let that happen to…to anyone we used to know"

"It happens alphabetically"

Buffy stopped, paused, turned. Stared.

"What?"

"The reversal. The resurrections. They happen alphabetically" Anya gave a little smile. "There's a little song about it, written in Ancient Sumerian. I thought about suggesting it actually, for our sing-a-long finale, but it doesn't translate very well"

"Alphabetically??"

"They don't call it the Orb to Rule All Orbs for nothing, y'know? It has to have a system"

Xander looked down at the half dead, rotting feathery…thing that was wobbling its way towards his foot. His mouth twitched.

"So I'm guessing B for Bird. And H for human. That gives us…erm" He started to recite under his breath.

"7 letters in which to destroy the Orb"

The others looked at Giles.

"I _was_ a librarian, you know? It's a requirement of the Advanced Librarianship Certificate to know your alphabet…I was always very good at it" He grinned proudly.

"Seven letters…That's not very long" Buffy mused aloud. "Anya, is there any other information you've neglected to tell us?"

Anya looked innocent. 

Rolling her eyes, Buffy hitched her crossbow back up her shoulder. "We have to move. Fast. If the dead have started to rise then I'm betting there's not that much time left before the hellmouth gets all openy"

"About 22 letters" Xander offered helpfully. She gave him a half-amused look. "Sorry" 

"Let's keep moving"

They moved.

The once dead now half-alive rotting feathery bird fell over, and started talking to a couple of ants who had recently been squished by a rampaging caterpillar. Such was the wild wacky life of the animal kingdom.

They found they all got on quite well.


	22. Chapter 22: 'Files and Books and Sheds o...

Chapter 22:

Willow hurried down the street, two rather large dusty volumes wedged under each arm. Behind her, Spike followed at a run, also carrying various vacuous tomes. Their feet pounded on the pavement, as the London traffic whirled around them. The time-freeze obviously hadn't slithered its way into this part of the capital, but, Willow feared, it wouldn't be too late before it did.

And then it would creep further and further, until eventually the whole world would be frozen and she'd be stuck with Spike forever. Perhaps that was a selfish angle from which to approach the dilemma, considering everyone else would be stuck in unflattering positions for the rest of their non-lives, but, from where she was running, Willow found it the best motivation she could have.

"Where are we going?" Willow called back, realizing the question was rather illogical as she was in the lead. Spike drew level with her and flashed her a smirk, which she batted away with a book.

"I don't know Red. Your place or mine?"

Willow stared at him in alarm, and disbelief. Didn't he get that she was gay?! Or, for Spike, was that just more of a challenge? Hang on a minute, she wasn't even Buffy. What was he doing? Had he gone insane or something? Was that why he was dressed as he was? It would explain the anorak.

Spike rolled his eyes, then grabbed her arm. 

"Never mind. This way"

He pulled her across the street, nipping down a back alley between soaring skyscrapers, shadowed silhouettes against the night sky. It would be dawn soon, however. He would have to be back inside before then. 

The two renegades slipped down cobble-stoned streets, startling a couple of cats, who mewed and scrambled behind some dustbins. The streetlamps cast a hazy glow, sending shadows of distorted trees and their own mutated figures sprawling across the ground. And then Willow noticed, for the first time, why everything was so eerie.

There was no background noise.

Apart from the odd car driving round the nearby streets, there was nothing. No cars honking, or engines, or…anything. London lacked the vibe, and the feel of the vibrant, 24 hour city that it truly was. Or had been. Willow bit her lip. That must mean that the majority of the city was frozen by now, and that could only mean it was spreading faster, leeching the momentum out of everything, feeding off their energy and activity.

They had to act fast.

"How…far?" She gasped, her arm still within Spike's grip. He indicated with his head. 

"Not far. Of course, I'm assuming I can still open my front door when we get there"

She gave him a look.

After about five more minutes of running, they realized they weren't being followed by irate members of the Watcher's Council. This came as something as a relief, and a disappointment. Surely the fact that they'd stolen some old, dusty books from South London Command meant they were worthy enough for a little bit of chasing. Not much, an exciting flee from a swarm of persuing black taxis, in the pouring rain, with brollies being waved out the windows. Bowler hats. Lots of moustaches, and helpful police and "There they go. After them!". And then they'd jump into a chalk painting and disappear, thus evading capture…

Willow had to get back to California. And fast. England was dangerous.

"Down here"

Spike yanked Willow's arm, pulling her at an alarming angle down an even smaller alley- way. They ran down this stoned passage, which stank of bananas, before coming out onto an wide expanse of grass, surrounded by iron fencing. Shadows slunk across the grey-green parkland, large oak trees rising up out the ground like eager corpses about to go on vacation.

Still holding her arm, Spike pulled her towards the parkland, slipping through a break in the railings, before crossing the grass, the earth netted with shadows. Then, abruptly, they stopped. Spike tilted his head slightly, staring at nothing, though apparently listening.

Willow stared questioningly at him.

"Landlord" Spike said shortly. "I still haven't paid my rent"

Then, suddenly, they were moving again, towards the furthest corner of the parkland.  The parkland they passed through was intriguingly decorated with grotesque stone statues, the majority under a roof which followed the select concreted paths around the park.

Then they reached the corner.

"Home sweet home" Spike said. Willow shifted the books under her arms.

"It's a shed…You live in a shed?"

"I prefer to think of it as a wooden crypt" Spike said testily "Now, come on, unless you want to be aided by a pile of ash"

Willow said nothing, and instead followed Spike as he opened the door and went inside.

It was certainly cosy, she had to give him that. It was the type of shed used by middle-aged men for storing large lawnmowers and summer garden furniture that, in England, got used once a decade. He'd put a rug on the floor (a red rug, like blood and gore and, erm, passion – he wasn't getting effeminate, don't worry ladies) and, as well as a narrow bed, had his customary TV ("and the sodding license fee…") and a small cupboard containing various varieties of alcohol.

It was here Spike went first.

Willow refused his offer of a drink, and instead, dumped the books in the middle of the room, before standing there, tentatively, very much aware she was standing in the summer-house of a chipped-but-still-kinda-evil vampire.

"Have a seat" Spike told her. "Well, you could if I had any"

A bottle of whisky in one hand, Spike pulled a cushion out from under the bed and tossed it to her.

"Sit on that…it's not too blood-stained"

"Thanks" Willow, not really wanting to know the story behind the blood, nor having any desire to see how bad it really was, dropped it on the floor before sitting down quickly. She reached for the most promising book, opened it up.

"I think we need to look at Anti-Time-Spells, De-Manipulation Spells, Anti-Freezing Spells (though not those with ray guns…)"

Spike took a gulp of his drink and shook his head.

"It's an Orb, its always an Orb"

"I thought it was always a Talisman"

"Only at the beginning of an unfulfilling season"

"Right. And I know it's an Orb, I just thought that…"

"That's what I've always admired about you Will. You think. It makes a nice change. And of course, you going all evil certainly pushed you up a few places, too"

Willow turned over a page.

"I'm not evil anymore"

"So you keep saying" Spike said, with something of a grin. He put the whisky back on the side, then picked up a file labeled "The Orb of Apoc".

"This may be what we're looking for" He told her. Willow looked up.

"Check the index"

"Files have indexes?"

"We're dealing with the English Filing System here. Everything has an index."

"Right"

Spike flicked the file open to the back pages, and indeed there was an index, all in very small print that was difficult to read in the rather dim light of the shed.

"Hmm…Time, Frozen"

Spike turned to the pages in question, and Willow felt a touch of jealously. She was the intelligent, brainy one, she should get to play with the indexes! As a poor substitute, she turned over another page in her dusty book. The dust made her sneeze.

"Frozen time, blah blah, never ending, blah blah, apocalyptic side-effect, blah blah, we all die"

He snapped it shut.

"Ah well, least we know we tried"

"Give it to me"

Willow gestured, and the file was dropped into her lap. Spike meandered back to his Whisky bottle, and wondered why exactly he had bothered to help the Witch in the first place. She wasn't even blonde and called Buffy.

He took a swig, and felt the familiar burn down the back of his throat. He really didn't know what came over him sometimes. Inside, his inner demon was already rather intoxicated, and gave a 'hic!' as a reply before collapsing unconscious in one corner. It wasn't like he had much to do anymore anyway.

Hastily, Willow scanned the pages, all written in a nice large font and with carefully drawn, helpful diagrams. This was…intriguing. And promising. The Watcher's Council, for all their scary stuffy Britishness really did know their stuff. It was all so precise, with correct grammar and punctuation, with certain words underlined for cross-referencing…Willow was in research heaven.

It was even better when she read what she had to do. There wasn't even any guesswork. It was as simple as:

 Problem: Orb of Apoc causing time-freeze.

Solution:  __________________

(Well, we don't want to give you the solution that Willow read, do we? It'd spoil the exciting finale! Who knows, we may even get inspirational music by Sarah MusWeepthen as well as a thrilling climax.

Not to be predictable or anything. No way.

There'll be an epiphany too, won't there. And a walk among some flowers 

Shut up!

_Told ya._

I'm warning you.

Chris Beck and his music strike again, Buffy'll have to make a heart wrenching decision, or at least fall down a hole, and roll around in there, till she eventually quits her moping and makes a life-changing decision and –

*****Bang!* 

I did warn you.Never try and guess what the writers will do. They'll just change it, to piss you off. And piss you off anyway).

Anyway, getting back to what occasionally resembles the plot…

Willow slammed the file shut with a satisfying thump. Well, it was rather a weak, washy sound actually, with it being a file and not a thousand page tome, but who was she to argue.

"Well, I know what we've got to do Spike"

Spike turned around and studied her in the dim light of his holiday shed.

"We?"

"Oh yeah. You've helped me this far, you're not escaping so easily"

"Right" Another nochalent swig. "What do 'we' have to do?"

Willow tossed the file over to him.

"Page 43" She instructed.

Giving Willow a distrusting look, Spike flicked open to that page, scanned down, taking in the very neat and grammatically correct information. Then he gave his trade mark grimace and tossed the file back to the Witch.

"I'm not doing that"

"What? It's not that bad…We have a world to save. I thought that's what you did occasionally?"

Spike gave the most disgusted eye-roll ever and slammed his whisky bottle violently on to the side-board. Then he went over to Willow, knelt down in front of her and glared her in the eye.

"I'm a vampire. I do not…do that"

"But"

"Watch"

Spike vamped out, causing his inner demon to wake up in a blind panic and stumble around the interior until it asphyxiated in shock and fell over.

"This face…does not do that" He growled.

"But you will"

"Why?"

Willow had a slight smile on her face.

"Otherwise I'll stick you in a giant mousetrap"

Spike threw his hands into the air, returning to human face.

"Ok! Jeez, you women, you're all the same. Do this, do that, do everything now. Nag, nag, nag…"

He stood up, did up the zip on his anorak.

"Ok. I'll do it, stop going on already, and for god's sake do not put me into a giant mousetrap! But if you tell _anyone_…"

"My lips are sealed"

Spike sighed.

"I can't believe I'm doing this"

"Do it for …Buffy"

Suddenly a golden light fell upon the vampire's cheeks, his dead skin enriched with a gold hue that enveloped his face, his head, an almost…halo-like light. Like an Angel (not to be confused with the broody, often mentally disturbed and slightly psychotic vampire currently residing in LA with a green man and some monkeys  - sorry - employees), a serene look rested in his calming blue eyes, radiant with a light, violins playing from some mysterious location, swelling music, soaring notes, inspiration causes as Spike found his raison d'etre.

"Buffy"

He breathed her name, and his inner demon, who had almost began hoping that it would have something to do, packed its suitcases and booked a plane for south Calcutta.

"Is that a yes then?" Willow queried hopefully. "Cos I don't think I can manage without you – not without the risk of ending up in another dimension or being all connected and veiny…"

A smile rested peacefully on Spike's lips. Willow frowned.

"Spike?" She asked again. He turned to look at her, slowly, with the grace and poise that befits a ballet-dancer on ice. (That'd be an ice-skater then?)

"What?" He sounded confused and unrushed. Willow sighed, and got to her feet.

"Let's go"


	23. Chapter 23: 'If you go down to the Woods...

Chapter 23:

A cooling breeze swirled mightily through the upper foliage of the old trees, stirring baby leaves into a twisting dance as they fluttered in response against the grey sky. Further down, birds and woodland creatures scampered in the branches, nervously skipping from limb to trunk to limb, confused as to why it was suddenly night again when, only minutes ago, the sun had been rising in its wonderfully predictable fashion. A grey, shimmering light slipped through the upper echelons, dropping down to the soil below.

If it hadn't been for the absence of singing and the two dead men in front of her, Dawn could've been in a Disney movie 

[Little did she know that would all soon be closer to the truth than comfortable. Ending World-Peace? That's nothing baby, compared to turning southern California into Mary Poppins country…]

"So where is your helicopter then?"

Officer Tomlinson adjusted his nose which was threatening to fall into the side of his left cheek, and then gestured vaguely in one direction.

"Over there somewhere. We need you to help us find it"

Dawn held back her response, as the two corpses abruptly changed direction, crossing the road, and hopping over a fence into a grassy field. She trotted after them, wondering how on earth she was going to help them find a helicopter. She voiced her concern.

Lieutenant Kash maintained his rapid pace, the outskirts of Sunnydale Woods coming into view in the distance, as he began to answer her question.

"You are female, yes?"

"Yes"

"And you are alive?"

"I hope so"

"Then you'll be perfect"

Dawn gave him a questioning look.

"The demon's who killed us and stole our helicopter…" Officer Tomlinson expanded

"And my foot"

" - and his foot - are part of a world-wide evil scheme, that uses various economic and logistical currents throughout society's infrastructure to manipulate and extrapolate their sustenance at the lowest exchange rate, resulting in deprivation, carnage and job losses throughout North America, and indeed the world, that will have evolutionary repercussions in later epochs, due to an irregularity in the chain of events, events we are trying to prevent"

Dawn smiled.

"Right" She said dubiously. "And…"

"And" Officer Tomlinson continued "you're perfect to fight them"

"I thought I was just finding a helicopter"

"You are"

"but the demons will be in the helicopter" Kash smiled at her. "Really, you've got nothing to worry about"

"Absolutely nothing"

For the first time, Dawn began to get creeped out.

*          *          *          **        *          *          *          

"That was a dead cat…that was definitely a dead cat" Xander's voice wavered as the four hurried past a mound of moving, meowing and matted fur, dragging itself slowly out the ground.

"Well technically" Anya argued "it was a once-dead-now-reactivated cat"

"It was a dead cat, I've had experience with these things. I tend to find them in basements"

"The Orb's cycle has reached 'C'" Buffy stated.

"And people said Sesame Street wasn't educational" Giles added dryly.

The four stood at the outskirts of Sunnydale Wood's Main Visitor Entrance (this is America, people…gotta think commercialism. MacDonald's have applied for a 'Rural Quickie' Branch, but they haven't yet got planning permission), the gateway the start of a tarmac road, that wound its way through the central areas of the wood.

"Why didn't we bring the car?" Buffy mused.

"With the car, we couldn't do the inspirational group slo-mo power walk with weapons" Xander said.

"Good point"

Signaling that the others should remain where they were, Buffy walked up to the main entrance. It was quiet, a breeze gently blowing through the grey day, but Buffy felt uneasy. She hoisted the crossbow further up her shoulder, and let her gaze travel up the road, searching for signs of movement, any demonic figures, noises, a random helicopter, perhaps. But there was nothing.

"I guess we start walking" She said, turning back to the group. "We'll split up, search the wood – the demons have to be in there somewhere"

"They do?" Anya studied the wood with some interest.

"We need Willow" Xander sighed softly. "She could do a location spell, find the demons for us - "

"Go all black-eyes and veiny and try and end the world. Again"

Buffy gave Xander a small smile, as Anya muttered something about destroying her means of income. "I don't think Willow's in any position to help us"

"It's been months…and she was sorry, I know she was"

"I know she was…but these things take time, don't they Giles?"

"What?" The Ex-Librarian looked up from the flattened flower he was studying by the roadside. He stood, replacing his glasses that had been dangling between his finger and thumb.

"Willow…in England"

"Oh, yes, yes. Its not something that can be rushed"

"But I just think…" Xander sighed. There was no point arguing, it wasn't like Willow was around or able to help them. She was probably having tea and cucumber sandwiches with the Granny Witch from the coven, completely oblivious to the fact that the world was possibly going to end again. He may as well search for the demons in the old fashioned, magic-free…fashion. Without Willow.

"What's that?" Xander indicated to the flower Giles had been looking at.

"_Metaphorica Anvilitae. _Used to be a rare specimen, but the last few years have seen it flourishing in these parts"

"It appears to have been run-over" Anya commented.

"There is that"

"It's pretty" Buffy said, studying it. Then she blinked "Giles, it's a plant. And I do not want to go down in the history books as not saving the world because I was fuelling my geology habit at the time"

"Botany" He corrected quietly.

"Whatever. We need to find these demons and stop them. Now"

Suddenly there came the distant roar of rotating blades, the chutter of a helicopter engine, high in the grey sky. They all looked up, and around, and spotted the Chinook flying, at low altitude, directly towards them.

"Well, they appear to be here" Xander said. They watched as the Chinook powerful front beam swung round, before apparently locking directly onto their spot at the main entrance. The noise of the vehicle grew louder, and a breeze kicked up, the leaves shaking, branches swaying. Linkin Park could faintly be heard.

"That was easier than I thought" Buffy shouted above the din. Xander nodded, and the group backed off slightly, moving closer together.

"Everyone stay grouped, we'll watch where they land and run to confront them"

"An ambush?" Xander yelled. "Is that a good idea?"

"You got a better one?"

"Actually, I think you'll find we won't need to run to confront them" Anya shouted factually.

They stared up at the light that was getting brighter, obscuring the helicopter behind it. Now the trees were bending from the force of the rotor-blades, their clothes and weapons were being whipped about (somewhat dangerously) by the wind. Xander glanced at Buffy nervously.

"I'm thinking we're going to have to move"

Buffy nodded. "I agree"

"Because it appears they're going to park right here"

Anya gave Xander a look that all but spelt out 'Well, D'uh!'.

Then the four backed away, as the Chinook landed at the Official Entrance to Sunnydale Woods (soon to be sponsored by MacDonald's).

                        **        **        **        **

Dawn shielded her eyes as, to her left some distance away, the Chinook came into view. It's powerful spotlight skipped across the ground, casting the grey morning into something slightly less grey.

"This way" Lieutenant Kash commanded. Then, with surprisingly agility, he vaulted onto Officer Tomlinson's back, gripping his subordinate's shoulders tightly. "Go! Go, go, go!"

The two dead men in a piggyback set off at a staggering run across the field. Dawn watched them, bemused and rather startled, before taking a fresh hold on her crossbow and running after them.

"What are we going to do?" She gasped, drawing level with the piggybacking dead men. She was answered with two slightly uplifted eyebrows. Dawn nearly started shouting in frustration – no one would tell her anything! Knowing her luck, this dramatic and mysterious build up would end up being misdirection and she'd have to do nothing at all. Tomlinson disrupted her torrent of thoughts, as he observed:

"It's landing"

And indeed it was. Right there, about 400metres from their position.

They ran/staggered across the field, drawing closer to the main road that led to the wood's Official Entrance, as the wind picked up, and the din from the helicopter grew louder. Dawn gasped as she saw the helicopter abruptly descend, in a clearing that wasn't clear enough. The helicopter's blades tore through the upper branches, as the tail twitched against the trees in close proximity.

"They're gonna crash!" Dawn yelled.

The Chinook fought for balance, fought for control, wavering precariously, and then, somehow, the engines screaming, the blades a whirling blur through the grey, it touched down safely, wedged, from what Dawn could see, in a space just large enough, and no more.

"Right" Kash waved a hand. "Put me down" Officer Tomlinson let his footless superior officer slide to the floor, where he hobbled forward, standing on the conveniently elevated position within the field. From this convenient vector, he stared down the short distance to the road.

"Right, we will now retrieve our helicopter"

And with that, Officer Tomlinson grabbed hold of Dawn, pinning her arms to her sides, with abnormal strength for a dead man with half a face, picked her up, and ran towards the helicopter yelling:

"We've got an exchange! Don't shoot! Don't shoot! Pretty girl for our helicopter! Don't shoot!"

Half-wrestling to free herself from the officer's grasp, Dawn mustered enough co-ordination to also roll her eyes. She was always bait. Always. It was tiresome and rather predictable – she did have other qualities, y'know.

"Let me go!" she yelled. They were rushing down the incline, towards the helicopter, where the blades were rotating to a standstill. 

"Can't do that" Tomlinson said regretfully. "This Chinook is government property. If we don't return it, we can't crash it into our own troops at a later date"

"But why do the demons want me!?"

Officer Tomlinson shrugged as well as he could whilst running downhill.

"Beats me. I just work here"

Dawn drew close to the helicopter, Lieutenant Kash hobbling after them, just as a demon hopped out the cockpit. This strange, hairy creature looked at her, then Officer Tomlinson, and then back again. Then he laughed and rubbed his hands together gleefully. Behind him, his partner in crime shuffled out the cockpit, coming to rest on the soil. 

Dawn glanced worriedly around the clearing. Buffy should be here…someone who wanted to save her should be here. She wasn't bothered who. Dawn peered through the trees, letting her eyes travel up the road into the woods. Her gaze scoured the woodland, pushing through the grey shadows, before alighting on a crossbow, half hidden by the dark.

Her heart skipped a beat as she identified it.

"Oh no" she whispered. Officer Tomlinson gave her a funny look. The demons slathered and continued to look rather evil and very hairy.

Then suddenly there was a twang, and a kathunk, and a strange cry, as the demon standing at the back (temporarily named Demon B) seemed to spasm upwards and jump a little in the air. Then it fell forward, causing Demon A to side-step quickly out the way, revealing an arrow embedded deep in it's hairy back.

Everyone turned to look in the direction the arrow had come from. Through the Chinook's cockpit, standing on the earth opposite the group, stood Buffy, crossbow in hand, a small smile on her face. Then the smile disappeared as she made eye contact with Dawn.

"Buffy!" Dawn said weakly, still stood in Tomlinson's grip.

"I told you to stay at home" Buffy remonstrated. 

"I decided to go for a walk?" Dawn offered.

"RAARRGGHH" Screamed the last remaining Demon, who was feeling left out and was becoming concerned that the pace was becoming too slow to resemble anything dramatic.

Buffy put her head on one side, studied the demon.

"Giles – now!" She yelled abruptly, before dashing through the cockpit, out the other side and throwing herself onto Dawn, pulling her sister (and the attached Officer Tomlinson) to the ground, as the blades kicked in, started to spin. The Chinook's engines roared, the demon roared louder, and then, in a moment of inaction that proved why he never got assigned the cheese, and instead had to kill men with odd socks, forgot to move out of the way.


	24. Chapter 24: Heads Up

Chapter 24:

Xander peered out from behind the bushes, sword in hand. Beside him, Anya also rose to her feet. Giles hopped down from the cockpit, where he'd been crouching, waiting for Buffy's signal, having crept in whilst everyone else had been distracted.

Buffy lifted her head, as the blades slowed to a standstill, a temporary silence having settled around them. Slowly, she got to her feet, before proffering a hand to Dawn who took it. 

"Have you left Ethan all alone in my kitchen?"

Dawn avoided her eyes.

"Dawn!"

"Well, what was I meant to do? Bring him with me?"

"You were meant to stay at home"

"What? And just wait for you all to die? Hardly" Dawn retrieved her crossbow that had fallen to the floor and swung it back over her shoulder. "I couldn't do that"

Buffy gave her a tired look, but pride was in her eyes.

Xander and Anya came to join them, Anya requesting that Giles pick the leaves out of her hair. The Librarian, rather exhilarated with his excellent helicopter blade activation, did as he was told.

"Nice shooting Buff" Xander commented. "You should enter the Olympics with aim like that" 

"Under what category Xander?" Giles said distractedly.

"I dunno – The Slaying Heptathalon?"

Just then, there came a crash, as a figure rolled dramatically through the undergrowth to their left, rising up on one knee, before losing balance and crashing to the floor. 

"These…these guys are dead" Dawn informed her friends. 

"Really?" Xander glanced them over, the guy with half a face and the man on the floor who was lacking a foot. "Guess that means we've got to 'H' then"

Giles and Buffy exchanged a worried glance. 

"That's probably unfortunate" Anya commented quietly.

Dawn gave them a look. "'H'?" She asked.

"The…the reversals caused by the Orb, they happen alphabetically" Giles said, taking off his glasses. 

"But these guys have been around for ages…"

Officer Tomlinson cleared his throat, as Lieutenant Kash got to his foot and hobbled forward.

"Actually Ma'am, Sir" Kash began "Our resurrection has nothing to do with The Orb of Apoc, though we are aware of it's power. Rather, our return is a quota precaution"

"A what now?" Xander questioned.

Kash cleared his throat, and Officer Tomlinson continued the explanation, firstly pulling his nose back into a more central position and straightened his eye socket. The small blonde woman was rather intimidating.

"Due to the, er, rather unfortunate political situations, since the early 1950's the American Government have had a Supernatural Resurrection Clause installed into every Army member's contract"

"A resurrection clause?" Xander said incredulously.

"It's only implemented during times of duress, and only when the supernatural is involved"

"I hate these Government types" Xander muttered.

"I assure you Sir, it's humane and very economic"

"I bet" That was Giles. "And you say this has been going on since the 1950's?"

"Yes Sir. A supernatural death activates the clause and we are resurrected till we have fulfilled our duties. Like I say, it's very efficient." 

Giles shook his head and sighed.

"So do you know Riley Finn then?" Anya chirped in cheerfully. The Slayer looked at her curiously, as Anya continued "Only Buffy used to have sex with him, and if he'd been dead and resurrected, it would explain a whole lot"

Buffy shot her a glare (as opposed to an arrow, which would've been far more fatal, and much more satisfying). 

"Finn…" Kash mused "Isn't he the guy married to the alcoholic robot?"

"So I _was_ right!" Xander exclaimed. "Come on guys, pay up, Ahn, you owe me ten dollars"

"Sam's a robot?" Buffy intoned. Then she blinked, and turned to Xander. "Should I be insulted?"

"Just be grateful you've had one long term boyfriend who wasn't the undead. Otherwise people are gonna think you've got problems" 

Buffy stared at Xander.

"Not that I can talk…" He added hurriedly.

Giles cleared his throat, and tried to direct the conversation back onto the main road.

"So you've been resurrected from a source other than that of the Orb?"

"For a limited period of time, till we complete our mission, yes"

"And then what?"

"And then we die…properly this time"

Officer Tomlinson pushed his eyebrow further up his forehead. He was rather conscious of it dangling where his left eye used to be, and he didn't want to make a bad impression on these people.

"And what is your mission?"

"To return the helicopter after survelliance work on these now-dead demons"

"Ah. And once complete you…"

"We die and stay dead, yes"

"Well, for one, I'm glad about that!"

"Dawn!" Buffy exclaimed.

"These guys were gonna trade me for the helicopter!"

"They were?" Buffy turned to study Lieutenant Kash, who stood at an horizontal angle due to his mono-foot status, avoiding her eyes.

"Well, you are only a child. It makes economic sense"

"Anya!"

Anya looked irritated. "Giles, you missed some leaves"

"Oh, ok, right"

"Is that true?" Buffy said slowly.

The two men exchanged glances, before nodding an affirmative. Buffy swung her crossbow back on her shoulder.

"If I didn't have apocalypses to worry about, and you weren't human and already dead…I'd kill you for that"

"Right" Tomlinson and Kash said in unison.

Assured that the two Army officers weren't particularly evil now that the demons were dead, Buffy turned to the others.

"Come on, we need to find the Orb to Rule All Orbs"

"I hear ya" Xander said, waving his sword in the air a little and nearly chopping off Dawn's nose.

"Does this mean we get to sing now?" Anya inquired.

"Probably"

"Yay! I've been thinking, does anyone object to a bit of Simon and Garfunkle…"

"Yes" Came Buffy, Xander and Giles' reply.

"Who?" Dawn said. Anya sighed, and pulled a list from her pocket, crossing off the top title.

"Do you happen to have any idea where the orb may be situated?" Giles asked Kash and Tomlinson. 

"Possibly. We were surveying the demons in a clearing towards the centre of these woods. We believe the only tree in this clearing is used as their Information Centre. It's linked directly to the cooling centre, you see"

Giles didn't see, and if Giles didn't see, then the other most certainly didn't (apart from when Willow was just on a wacky course of spell destruction).

"Right. Well, uh…where is this tree?"

Lieutenant Kash gestured towards the centre of the wood.

"Over there. We'll give you a lift if you like?"

"We get to ride in a helicopter?!!" Xander squealed. Anya gave him a dubious look. He sobered. "Even I know that was way too excited"

Buffy gave him a smile. "It would be pretty cool"

"Yeah…" Giles agreed, and then realized that was entirely inappropriate for a man who has got over his mid-life crisis many years ago. "We'd be very grateful"

"No problem" 

Officer Tomlinson took Buffy's arm and led her towards the cockpit. 

"This way" 

Buffy did as she was told, and the others, collecting their weapons that had been dropped in haste earlier, fell in line.

"So, are you by any chance, the infamous Sunnydale Slayer?" The Officer enquired.

"The one and…not so only. Yeah, that's me"

"Wow" Tomlinson grinned, and really really wished he had a complete lower jaw. "Could I have your autograph?"


End file.
